How To Come Undone
by QueenOfQuiet17
Summary: It was such a beautiful mistake. And she had no one to blame but herself. Will/Karen. Now complete.
1. Prologue: Placing Blame

December 1999

I hate you. I truly hate you.

You gave into them, even when you said you wouldn't. You broke your promise. I remember one of the nights we spent together in the first months of our relationship. We were in bed during one of those random yet blissful times we found a space to be ourselves, and while you were asleep against the moonlight shining through the window, I brought my knees to my chin, unable to sleep, unable to clear these negative thoughts swimming through the channels of my mind. I knew going into this that it would only be a matter of time before something, or someone, causes our demise. But I had always been able to keep that in the back of my mind, some dark corner where it wouldn't see the light of day. Until that night.

I had my gaze fixed on the alarm clock next to my side of the bed, waiting for the moment when the numbers would change to 2:31 when I felt your hand crawling up my bare back. I closed my eyes to take it in when I heard you whisper, "Is everything okay?"

I looked over at you; your eyes weren't quite open the entire way, but you were still able to see everything I was feeling. You propped yourself up on your elbow and said in the most soothing way, "Talk to me."

My voice nearly failed me. "How long do we really have?"

You led me to the warmth of your body, kissed the crown of my head and told me, "I will never let anyone come between us. I promise you." And as I rested my head against your chest, your heartbeat beginning to serve as my soft lullaby, I trusted you.

You promised. You lied. It's how things always go, but I honestly never expected that from you. I hate you.

No. Maybe it's not you. Maybe it's them. I hate them.

They're the ones who took you away from me. They're the ones who claim to be my friends, but when it came to being with the one I loved, they wouldn't have it. Of course you would pick Grace over me; I wasn't an idiot. Once I realized that you couldn't hold true to your promise, I knew with whom you were going to side. Jack feigned disgust, and although you bought it, I could see through him. I wasn't worried about him. But he got to you, and you ran. Back to Grace, back to life before me, before us. I should have realized that there couldn't be two women in your life.

If you ever found out how I spend my nights without you, you would realize how pathetic I have become. I can't bear to look at Stanley anymore. On some level, I believe that he still does love me, even if he doesn't necessarily show it. And because of that, I am grateful that spending time with him is a rarity. But there are nights when even knowing that he's in the same building is too much for me. I leave without him noticing I'm gone, and I go to the places where I feel most like myself.

I go to the places you used to take me.

Right now, I'm walking the paths in Washington Square Park, so far from the uptown dilemmas and headaches that I've become so accustomed to. I remember living downtown with my mother when I was young, right after my father passed. We found an apartment overlooking Washington Square; you could see the park outside my bedroom window. I was never allowed to play there; my mother never trusted the city, and we only went to a select few places.

I wonder what she would say if she found out that this park is one of the spaces I feel safest.

You took me here the first night we spent together. What we were doing was already risky, with Stanley being in the picture, and you thought if we went downtown, no one would recognize us, and we would be able to walk the streets without worry. You took my hand and lead me through the park. You made me laugh. You whispered in my ear all the things you knew I wanted to hear, and you truly meant them. And before we left, you took me in your arms and brushed your lips against mine as we stood underneath the arch. If you stand on Fifth Avenue a few blocks away, you're able to still see the arch, and for a moment, I wondered if you would be able to see this blatant act of love as well.

Ever since that night, I've been attracted to Washington Square, and although I never said it out loud, you knew. Even though you took me to other places—small independent bookstores, coffee shops that didn't belong to a large franchise—you brought me back here at least once a week, reenacting the moments we shared the first night. I never told you, but I used to deliberately pass by on my way to work. There were some days when I told the driver to go that way—the office wasn't that far away, anyway—and I would think of our nights together as a sort of pick-me-up to use for the rest of the day. Now, whenever I pass by the arch, whenever I come near Washington Square, I can only think of you.

I can only think of the memories that, even now, are beginning to fade in my mind, no matter how much effort I put into keeping them as vivid as they once were.

I can only think of that last night we had. I didn't even get to say goodbye to you.

When I think of that last night, I think of them. I think of the way they took you away from me, how cold they were, how they didn't care that it hurt me. These people I was so willing to call friends. Facing Grace at work has turned from something I looked forward to every day to something I would do anything to avoid. I can tell Jack wants to apologize, but I think he realizes that his words won't be able to undo what happened. I want things to go back to normal between he and I; I miss him.

Although not as much as I miss you.

Maybe I'm going about this wrong. Maybe I should have been strong enough, secure enough, to defend our relationship. I thought that they wouldn't take me seriously; I've built up a certain reputation with them, and as much as I want to break through that and let them see the real me as this façade crumbles, they wouldn't let that happen. You were the only one who knew the things I kept hidden from them, and the probably wouldn't have believed you if you defended me.

But I shouldn't have had to rely on you to defend me. I should have spoken up. I should have let them know that any perception of me, of us, of our intentions, were wrong and set them straight. Maybe then they would have opened their eyes and realized what you and I had. This was my fault.

I don't hate you. I could never hate the one that brought me so much happiness. I love you too much to turn on you like that. After all of this, I still love you.

I don't hate them. I can't fault them for the reaction they had. After all, we lived in this secrecy and anticipated some sort of fallout eventually.

I hate myself. Because of me, we had to hide away from everyone and take refuge downtown. Because of me, we had to make everything harder on ourselves because we had no other option. Because of me, they found out the way they did, they reacted the way they did. Because of me, I didn't get to say goodbye, and you no longer stop by the office. Because of me, I no longer see you, and my image of you, along with the memories we shared together, are beginning to fade with time.

It would be wrong to place the blame on you, on them.

It's all because of me.

I have no one to blame but myself.


	2. Distraction

February 18th, 1997

Seven years. In this time he fell in love, fell into routine, and felt like he could spend the rest of his life in it. In this time, he grabbed onto a promise and held on, believing that this one would be kept. In this time, he thought that he would never be able to love another person the way he loved Michael. In seven years, Will's vision of life had changed, and he never had a plan for what would happen if everything he had come to know fell through. He wasn't worried about it; Michael had promised him his love, and Will had no reason to think of him as a liar.

And even now, three months after the fact, a part of him still wanted to believe the promise Michael gave him, even though it had been broken.

He wanted to believe that their relationship, everything they had built together, wasn't so easy to walk out on. He liked to think that they had a happy life together, and although there were a few rough patches, he knew that there were bound to be, and they would get through it. But Will realized now that there was no use in kidding himself. He wondered when Michael finally decided enough was enough, while he was wrapped up in the things that would cause his exit to completely blindside him.

He wondered how long of a mourning period a seven-year relationship needed.

Will walked the streets, not wanting to go home. Home reminded him of Michael; home reminded him of the things that once were, the things he could no longer have. He would return to his apartment only when he needed sleep; he was in search of some sort of distraction from everything, and frankly, he had yet to find it. But he wasn't about to give up. There was a distinct chill in the air, but he had been walking so long that he could no longer feel it. He wasn't able to feel anything, it seemed. Will turned his gaze from the strangers passing him by on the sidewalk to his own feet; he really could do without seeing couples hand in hand, absorbed in each other when he can only picture his own failed relationship.

If he had looked up just a second later, he would have missed her completely.

She was so close to him that he realized he would have run into her, had he continued in his self-absorbed trance. He looked behind her to find the entrance to a restaurant; he figured she was waiting for someone to join her. Will took a moment to study her while she concerned herself with looking down the street for just the right car to come their way. She was dressed in a high-end wardrobe that he knew Grace would kill to afford. But something was off. The clothes fit her physically, but they seemed to be the worst pick in every other aspect. She wasn't meant for the part that required such dress. Whether or not she knew that, he had yet to determine.

The woman glanced over at him, did a double take when she realized he was staring at her. She pulled her coat tighter around her body, scoffing as she asked, "Can I help you?"

Will didn't know how to answer, and simply said, "Are you waiting for someone?"

"As a matter of fact, I am." She locked her eyes on him, giving Will the chance to study them. God, they were beautiful in their shade of hazel, shining against the streetlights. But he could tell that they were hiding something—sadness, pain maybe—and wondered exactly what her story was.

"I could keep you company," he suggested.

She laughed. "I don't know you."

He smiled at her. He had to admit, he was intrigued, and incredibly attracted to her. Will took in the way she brushed her hair away from her eyes, the sigh she let escape as she turned her gaze back to the streets and waited for a response, the way her lower lip quivered with the cold. "Okay," he finally spoke, making her look back at him. "I'm Will. And you?"

She let a slight smirk creep onto her face. "Karen."

"Who are you waiting for?"

"Excuse me, Mrs. Walker?" They both turned around to face the man peeking his head out the door of the restaurant. Will hoped that he was looking for someone else, anyone except for her. She couldn't be married. But then she responded. Damn, he thought. "I'm sorry, but your husband just called and wanted us to let you know that he is unable to make the reservation tonight." Will watched as the man quickly retreated to his place inside the building, apologetic, but obviously not enough to stick around.

"Well," Karen said with another sigh, "I guess that's your answer." The light in her eyes that was once so vivid had now gone out completely. He got the feeling that she had been let down like this before despite promises that it would never happen again. She began walking to the corner of the sidewalk, waiting for someone to take her home. Will quickened his step in order to catch up to her, touched her arm to get her attention back.

"Come on, you don't need to leave. I'll take you to dinner." A little bold, perhaps, but he figured they were merely fishing for small talk up to this point, before arriving here.

She laughed again. Somehow, he figured it was coming. "I'm married," she replied as she hailed a cab. It wasn't exactly a "no" but it definitely served the purpose. But he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't just say "no." Maybe she was just as intrigued as he was. Maybe "I'm married" wasn't so much a rejection as it was a reminder to herself.

"But I won't disappoint you, like he obviously has. And I bet that this isn't the first time."

Karen turned away from the cab that was slowing down to a stop to face him. "And how the hell do you know so much about my marriage?"

"I can just see it in your eyes. You want a change."

She didn't say anything, just stood there, stunned. He had gotten to her, he knew it. He made her realize what had been there all along, despite her attempts to ignore it. He watched as she opened the back door of the cab, got in and directed the driver where to go. While they drove off, Will so desperately wanted to be the change that she needed. He wanted to be the one that brought the light back to Karen Walker's eyes.

As the cab drove off, Karen turned in her seat to look back at the man she just met, and cursed herself for not getting his last name. Will. She had only talked to him for no longer than a couple minutes, but she actually believed everything he said. Sure, her marriage wasn't picture perfect, but every relationship had its flaws, or so she thought. But this man, this Will, seemed to know everything that was bothering her about it. And he seemed like he could be the one to change it.

She shifted in her seat, leaning her head against the window, feeling the cold glass against her skin. He had her full name. She wondered if she had captivated him enough to want to find her, smiling at the thought of someone doing everything in their power just to see her again. Stanley would never do that, at least not now. Not when they've seemingly become so comfortable in their routine that anything out of the ordinary would seem like a disruption. But Will. He could be capable.

But no, she thought. She was crazy for thinking that. That sort of thing only happens in the movies. Ordinary people don't do that.

But Will didn't seem ordinary.


	3. Dreamland

March 4th 1997

He finally came tonight. She had waited in the same spot they met, waiting for him to show, hoping that he had as much faith in her as she had in him. It seemed as though so much time had gone by without his voice, his footsteps coming closer to her, the cold air accentuating the sighs she let escape. She never gave up hope, though. If he truly meant what he said, he would look for her…right?

The smile on his face as he ran to her made her laugh with relief. He picked her up in his arms into a twirl as she wrapped hers around him. When her feet touched the ground, she felt his lips against her neck. Oh, god, how she longed for this. He kissed her softly once before pulling away. No, how could he stop so suddenly? Couldn't he just linger a little bit longer? No matter. He's here now. It's what she wanted. She couldn't ask for anything more.

She ran her fingers through his hair as she spoke. "I was beginning to think you would never show up."

He smiled. She couldn't get enough of his smile. "How did you know I would look for you here?"

"It's the first and only place we met. Seemed like a no-brainer."

He laughed. "I guess you could look at it like that." Will took her hand, led her to the corner of the street. "Come on," he whispered in her ear. "I know a place where we can be alone."

They entered what seemed to be his apartment. They kept the lights off, as if light would make all of this disappear. He grabbed for her and kissed her hungrily as she led her into the apartment. No one would see them now; they were free to do what they had both dreamed of ever since they first met. Finally he lingered on her neck. She closed her eyes to take it all in while he undid the buttons of her blouse one at a time, kissing the skin that was revealed each time.

"Will," she gasped. He stopped, looked up at her. "Are you sure about this?"

He smiled. Then she woke up.

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Each dream would be a little bit different. The first couple of nights, they didn't leave the sidewalk outside the restaurant where they met. But as they went on, he got bolder and bolder. Some nights he would follow through on dinner, taking her to a different restaurant. Some nights they would walk hand in hand under the streetlights. But tonight, he took her to his apartment. He didn't seem to care about the small talk, walking around the subject; he merely wanted to get to what they both desired. She couldn't fault him for it. She couldn't feel him touching her in these dreams, except for once. Every night without fail, Karen felt the kiss on her neck he gave as they met on the sidewalk.

Eventually, she realized that it was only Stan coming to bed and kissing her goodnight before falling asleep himself. But she liked to pretend that it was truly Will. Even if she was fooling herself, it was better than the truth.

Sure, there was a part of her that still loved Stan. Even if their relationship was at a rocky state right now, there were those rare times when he would try to make things better, and they had great memories that she could always look back on to make her smile. But those memories only kept her company for so long. Soon, Karen wanted the touch of someone who loved her, instead of promises, words. She wanted to kiss someone and feel it rip through her core as it did the same to them. She tried to take comfort in her dreams about Will, but she soon realized that if he didn't find her soon, she would start to go out of her mind.

Karen couldn't get him out of her mind. She could go on without the thought of him during the day in those first few, but once the moon made its appearance and she closed her eyes, he would emerge from the dark corners of her mind and take over. At first she was horrified; this man was not her husband, she couldn't be thinking about him like this. But soon she realized that this was just the thing to make her forget about her failing marriage. As much as she didn't want to admit it, Will was right. He had just met her, and he knew everything about her.

When she woke up from this latest dream, when she abruptly left his apartment and rushed back to her own, it was one in the morning, officially two weeks since they met. She had to find him. Maybe she could do what she does in her dreams; maybe he's been going back to the restaurant and waiting outside, hoping she would show. Maybe she could take a chance.

It wouldn't hurt to try.

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Another night, another glare at him as the passersby watch him wait for something that will most likely never come. It became a nightly tradition, coming back to the restaurant, never going in, standing on the sidewalk as close to the original spot as he could remember. Will figured she wouldn't show, but somewhere inside of him, he had the hope that she felt what he did that night. He hadn't been able to get her out of his mind since they met, and he hoped that somewhere in Manhattan, she was thinking of him too. He knew with a little research and dedication, he could locate Karen Walker, but he didn't want it to come to that. She deserved her privacy, and as much as he wanted to see her again, he knew he would hate himself if he stooped down to that level. So he resorted to standing here as long as he could bear the cold, every night, waiting on some miracle to cause her to walk down that sidewalk and into his arms.

Tonight was unusually cold, too bitter for him to stand it for very long. Although he had waited all day to come out here, he decided to cut it short; if he couldn't handle this chill, she probably wouldn't be able to either. Will began to walk away until he heard footsteps coming closer to him. He stopped, but didn't turn around. It was probably just another looker, he thought, thinking him crazy for standing out here for no apparent reason.

But then the voice. Her voice. "Will?"

He turned around and saw her. Her eyes looked softer than before, as if she realized what she should have done in the first place and was warming up to the thought of him. She gave him a little smile as she walked closer to him. "Hi." She was so close, he could almost feel her warmth.

He began to reach for her hand, but stopped, thinking it would be too forward. "I was beginning to think you would never show up."

She laughed a little. "You've been waiting for me here?"

"Hoping you would come."

So it wasn't exactly like her dreams. She could live with that. As long as when they first kissed, he would linger.

"So," she started. "What about that dinner you wanted to take me too?"

"It's too late for that," he answered. "I'll take you somewhere else." Will held out his hand, waiting for her to take it. She felt like she could trust him, but she wasn't so sure yet. Maybe she was wrong to come out here in the first place.

Will smiled at her. "Come on," he said gently. "What are you waiting for?"


	4. Keep Your Hold

March 4th 1997

She stared at his hand, extended to her like an offering he knew she wanted. She would love nothing more than to take it without hesitation, without worry, but her past relationships had jaded her to the point where she was distrusting of everyone. And when someone finally broke through that, and she believed that they were the one to prove her wrong, eventually they would do something to make her wish that she had never let her guard down. They left, they cheated, they lied, broke promises. And as intrigued as she was by Will, who was still a stranger to her, she didn't think she could go down this path again.

"Karen," he said softly. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."

Her head jerked up to meet his eyes. What surprised her at first was her name spilling out of his lips. It was the first time he ever spoke it in her presence. He handled the two syllables with such delicacy, something she had never heard before. Stan had never really given it any thought; he just threw it around in passing. But Will knew how to say it. Then she registered what he had said after that. Did he say it just to be safe? Or did he actually know why she didn't automatically agree to go with him? How is it that he knows everything about her without her having to tell him?

The look in his eyes when he smiled seemed to light up everything around them. Maybe he was different. Maybe he was the one to break the cycle. And even if he weren't, she would always have Stan to go back home to. True, their passion, their love, was dwindling as the days went on, but he hasn't made any attempt to leave yet, and at the moment, she wasn't planning on it herself. She slipped her hand into his and took a breath to speak.

"Where are you taking me?"

"You'll see," he replied, leading her away from the restaurant.

He took her to a subway station, and for a moment, she refused to walk the steps to the train. Stan had always told her never to get caught in a situation where she had to use the subway. It was dangerous, he said, and the two of them were "too good" to take public transportation like that. She wondered what exactly qualified her as too good, but she was more concerned with the fact that he said it was dangerous. Will tugged on her hand. "Come on," he said.

"We really have to take the subway?"

"Unless you have a better way to get downtown quickly."

She told herself that she wasn't going to hurt her, that he had promised her before they left, and decided that if she were with someone else, the danger level would go down a bit. She nodded her head to let him know that she'd go along; he paid for her fare and led her onto the train.

Happy to finally be aboveground again, Karen asked him once again where they were going, impatient like a child. He laughed when they reached Fifth Avenue and said, "We're almost there. Look, you can see the arch already," pointing straight ahead.

The arch. She remembered that arch, vaguely. That didn't make sense, though. She and Stan never go downtown, she never would have been able to see this before. Then she realized that she had been here before. God, it had been so long since she lived down here. She couldn't have been more than seven, eight years old. She only got to see it on the way to her apartment, or on the way to school; she was never allowed near it.

They walked to a path that led them inside the park as she looked to her left at the apartments that stood on the other side, trying to pick out her old bedroom window. Will was watching her, smiling. Her look was so intense, he found, like she was fully concentrating on the buildings across from them. "Know someone who lives there?" he asked, guessing that that was what she was thinking about.

She shook her head. "My mom and I lived here for about a year. I was really young." They stopped and she pointed to a window near the top of the building. "That was where my bedroom used to be. I really hated her that year; my dad died, and we moved right after we buried him, like we were just supposed to forget that he was there and move on. I couldn't do it. I didn't really talk to her that year, I just spent my time in my room, looking out at the park, thinking about him." She stopped for a minute before looking at him. She winced. "Oh god. I can't believe I just told you that."

Will pulled her closer. "I'm so sorry," he said, his condolences coming about thirty years too late. He tried to change the subject. "I bet you spent a lot of time in the park, too."

Karen remembered her mother's voice, warning her against going out that way. "Listen to me, you are never, never to set foot in that park, do you hear me? It's too dangerous, Kiki." She wanted to shudder at the thought of that horribly ridiculous nickname her mother gave her, that she loved and hated in equal measure. "No," she replied to Will. "I never got the chance to come out here."

He tightened his grip on her hand. "Then let me show you what you've been missing."

The few lights illuminating the land around them pointed out the fact that they were the only ones there. As they followed the path, she began to let her guard down, becoming more and more comfortable with him, laughing at his jokes, coming closer to his body, soaking up his warmth. They stopped by the playground, completely free of the laughing, screaming children that surely occupied it when the sun was out, when she asked him, "Why did you want to take me here?"

"I knew we would be safe here. Look, I know you're married. And as much as I tell myself that, I can't take my mind off of you. I didn't want you to run into your husband, or one of his friends, or one of your friends, while we were together. I couldn't stand myself if I was the one to ruin your life."

She started to smile, amazed at the fact that someone who barely knew her already had her best intentions in mind. She knew that he would take care of her, that even though they had spent so little time together, he would be the one she could depend on. She felt like that with Stan once. The feeling slipped away when she wasn't paying attention, at a time when she couldn't keep her hold on it. Karen didn't want it to slip away now. She wrapped her arms around his waist, buried her face in his chest and spoke, her words muffled by his jacket. "I want to see you again."

He lifted her chin so he could see her eyes. "Tomorrow night, outside of the restaurant? Nine o'clock…you know, so I can actually make good on that dinner invitation."

She laughed. "I would love that."

Will took her hand and led her on the path, back to where they started. She looked back at her old bedroom window, wondering how long Will had lived in the city, wondering if maybe she found him outside her window playing in the park with friends, with his parents, and took comfort in the possibility. They were about to cross onto Fifth Avenue when she stopped him.

"Wait," she said. "I never got to see the arch up close like this before."

She tilted her head up to take in as much as she could. For a moment, she looked at him to see if he was doing the same, but he was only looking at her. She turned to him. Will brushed her hair behind her ear, leaned in, brushed her lips against hers under the arch. He tasted sweet, something she never experienced with anyone else. And when they pulled away, she couldn't help but smile. It wasn't like her dream.

He lingered.


	5. Her Little Secret

March 5th 1997

"What?" She had been silent for a few minutes, smirking at him from across the table in a small, dimly lit restaurant in the East Village. He loved it, because it was easy for him to lock eyes, to lose himself in the gorgeous hazel across from him. But he was dying to know what she was thinking about, and he had finally gotten the courage to break this silence that he would have easily kept going, had it not been for curiosity.

Karen shook her head. "I'm just trying to figure you out."

"What do you mean?"

"What I told you last night, about my mom? I've never told anyone that before, not even Stan. My husband," she said quickly, realizing that she never gave Will his name before. "So why did I find it so easy to tell you?"

He took her palm into his grasp, weaving his fingers with hers. "Maybe because you realized that I'm not like anyone else in your life." He stopped, giving her a moment to speak, but when she didn't, he continued. "Do you remember what I said to you the night we met? About how I thought you wanted a change?" She nodded. "Would you honestly have come out last night if you didn't?"

She was taken aback. He was so blunt in that moment, straight to the point, like nothing she had ever known with anyone else. He didn't dance around the issue like so many others. But he was right; as much as she didn't want to admit it before, Karen was in desperate need of a change. And Will was that change, she was sure of it. She found her voice again before responding.

"Is that what you're looking for, too?"

Will took a deep breath. "I guess you could say that. I've spent my entire life looking for someone to love me as much as I do them. I thought I had it so many times, but they all grow bored with me. It's how it always goes, I guess."

"No," she replied, immediately. She could have sworn she only thought that, but the look on his face confirmed that she was wrong. She wanted to be the one to prove him wrong, while at the same time, she was beginning to realize this very thing. Stan was once so passionate, so unpredictable, that she couldn't bear to be apart from him; she wanted to see what he would do next. But now, she's lucky if he does the slightest thing that goes against the routine. Karen stood up, tugged on his hand to make him do the same, before taking him in her arms.

"It doesn't always have to be like that," she whispered. "We can be different. We can break the cycle and prove ourselves wrong." She looked at him, ran her fingers through his hair. "I know we've got a lot going against us. But I wouldn't be here right now if I didn't think we could make this work. I just want to be with you."

"What if you get bored with me?" he asked, his voice small like a young boy's.

She pressed her lips against his cheek, remembered what he said to her last night.

"That's never going to happen," she replied. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise." And the conviction in her voice made him believe it.

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"Karen?"

Damn it, he was up; he went to bed early when she left. She made too much noise. The last thing she wanted was his voice coming from the bedroom, the indication that she had woken him up when she did her best to remain silent. Karen was drenched. She and Will had emerged from the subway station only to be met with a downpour. Hand in hand, they ran back to the restaurant they met at and stopped to kiss goodbye in the rain before going their separate ways. She never thought to hail a cab, and opted to pick up her pace to return to her home. But it slipped her mind that Stan would actually be at home, questioning what she was doing out so late.

"Karen?" he asked again. "Where are you?"

"I'll be there in a minute, honey," she called out before scrambling to the bathroom. She remembered leaving her nightgown in there this morning after getting ready for the day. She turned the water on to make it sound like she was showering, changed into the nightgown she found folded on top of a stack of towels. Looking in the mirror, she sighed at the panda eyes her smeared makeup created; the combination of the rainfall and Karen rubbing her eyes when a few drops got in them was not a friendly one to her. She cleaned her face the best she could and once she was done, she turned the water off, standing there a few moments to make sure that her lie was going to be a believable one.

As the last drops of water slid down the drain, Karen thought about what she said to Will. She truly did believe that they could break the cycle. But with Stan still in the picture, she wondered what lengths she had to go to in making sure that she and Will did just that. And as much as she hated the thought of lying to the one who had been in her life for so long, she knew that she would have to if she wanted to keep her little secret.

The sight of Stan in the dark like that, his back turned to her, made her want to cry. It made her want to confess everything, where she'd been, who she was with, what they were doing. It made her want to apologize for it all, to crawl into his arms and forget it ever happened. But when he turned in bed to face her, when she was not met with a smile and "I missed you" but a "Why did it take you so long?" she knew why she ran to Will in the first place.

She felt her hair; it was still damp from the rain outside. "I just wanted to hop in the shower before bed. No big deal," she replied, pulling back the sheets to get into bed.

"You never shower right before bed," he said. He was skeptical, she could tell, but there wasn't any suspicion in his voice. It had been wiped away by the heaviness of sleep.

"I just decided to do it this time. Turning over a new leaf," she said, not willing to give a further explanation, feeling that one was not needed. She placed her hand on his shoulder, wanting to feel his skin. She used to feel like the only person in the world who mattered to him when she did that. She could touch him, and all of his feelings, his beliefs, could find their way to her. But now, she felt absolutely nothing.

No, that wasn't true. She felt longing. For Will.

Stan turned his back to her once again, and she wondered what Will was doing. If he was thinking of her. She touched her hair to feel what the rain had done to it, remembering their night together, wanting so desperately to be in his arms again, instead of laying down next to a man she was beginning to know less and less. She tried to pinpoint the moment when they started to drift apart. But the mere thought of that started to bring tears to her eyes.

She turned her mind to Will.

To his touch.

To their secret.

And because of him, she was able to be at peace once again.


	6. On Second Thought

March 16th 1997

It was wrong, all of it was wrong. The meeting, the park, the restaurant, the kisses. It wasn't good, despite the sweet bliss she felt during all of it. She could have fooled herself into thinking that everything in her life was perfect, if she had never met him that night. But she soon realized that it wasn't meeting him that was wrong. It wasn't the park or the restaurant or the kisses. It wasn't the things he said or the way her name spilled gracefully from his lips. It was her, it was all her. She was wrong.

She was the one to think that she could successfully share some sort of life with Will without the one she had already made with Stan interfering.

A week and a half went by since their night in the restaurant. The place was a bit run-down, far from the uptown five-star places she became accustomed to over the years. The coffee had been weak, too cold for it to be freshly made, as their menu so boldly stated under the "Beverages" section. It didn't matter to her. She had Will's eyes and his voice to comfort her. She had his touch and his laugh to stimulate her. She had his kiss after they left to keep her wanting more.

But as soon as she saw Stan that night, everything came crashing down, like she was reaching for something on the highest shelf, and ended up taking everything else down in the attempt. This was not how a married woman was supposed to act. She was supposed to love her husband, no matter what got in their way. Marrying Stanley Walker not only forced her to inherit his lifestyle, but two stepchildren as well. Karen knew she was not mother material; her own mother never really did serve as a maternal role model, despite her attempts at something resembling parenting. One night, she even apologized to him, although he had not been angry or disappointed. "I'm so sorry, Stanley," she said in a child's voice. "I just don't know how to do this." He kissed her lightly on the cheek before telling her that it was okay, that everything was okay. She wanted to be a good stepmother to his children. She failed. Still, Stan seemed to love her for trying.

He tried to make her feel loved, but failed most of the time. But at least he tried. So why couldn't she love him for that?

Will had given her a crumpled piece of paper before they parted that night. In his slanted handwriting was written "WILL TRUMAN," underneath that, his phone number, underneath that, "CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR VOICE." She placed it in a drawer in her nightstand that she knew Stan would never look through; he was never one to snoop. She left it there, never opening up the drawer for it to see the light of day. Karen figured if she kept it hidden from her sight, she would eventually forget about it. She would eventually forget about him. She could try to piece together her marriage so that it could be whole once again.

But, as with many things in her life, that wasn't the way it worked.

Her previous dreams of meeting Will once again, being in his arms outside of the restaurant before walking under streetlights and going to his apartment, had been replaced with a more revised edition. This new recurring dream seemed to pick up where her last dream left off. The sun beat down on red sheets, on her face. She was in a bedroom she didn't recognize, sheets drawn up to her chest, protecting her bare body underneath them. When she turned on her side, it wasn't Stan asleep next to her, but Will. She reached for him, letting her fingertips dance along his arm, her cue for him to wake up. His brown eyes slowly became visible as he opened them wider and wider, sensitive to the light shining through the window. A smile crept onto his face as he wrapped his arms around her, brushing his lips against hers. "Good morning," he always said, his voice heavy with sleep. Some nights, he would get up and leave before she woke up. But she loved the nights when he would stay in bed with her. He would ask her, "Do you love me?" But before she could answer, she was thrust back into reality, into the darkness of her own room, the silence of her own husband sleeping next to her.

After a few nights of the same dream, Karen realized that she wouldn't be able to rid herself of Will so easily, if at all. She would have to move to more drastic measures.

But on second thought…

She took the time to think everything over. Was she really a bad person for wanting to follow her heart? Sure, doing that had led her to Stan, but what if it wanted something else now? What if it needed to be free? Besides, she's only human. She definitely wasn't the first woman in the world to ever feel this way before. Maybe she wasn't even the first person in this household to feel this way before. Who's to say that Stan hasn't thought about other women at one point or another? Who's to say he hasn't acted upon those desires? As much as she didn't want to think about her husband cheating on her, it would make her out to not be the bad guy in this situation. If he has done it, too, they're even.

But how could she be so sure, so early on, that this is what she wanted? Sure, Will was smart, seemed to know everything about her without her ever having to speak the words, he made her feel loved, wanted, needed. But was it Will that intrigued her, or just the novelty, the thrill, of an affair? Could he truly be the one she had been looking for?

What's the use, Karen asked herself. She already knew the answer.

Stan had left for work, the kids were at school. She had the house to herself, and she knew she wouldn't be caught; no one was home, and the help that Stan had hired kept their distance. She opened up the drawer, took the piece of paper in her hand, let her thumb slide over the creases and wrinkles, not in an attempt to smooth them out, but to ride the route that Will's fingers might have taken. She took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and dialed the number he had written. One ring, two. He cut off the third in the middle of its song. "Hello?" he said.

"Will? It's Karen," she started, then realized how long it had actually been since they last saw each other, the short amount of time they'd spent with each other. "Walker," she quickly added, just in case.

She could hear his smile in his voice. "I know who you are. I was beginning to think you didn't want to see me anymore."

"No, it wasn't that. It's just…complicated. With Stan and everything, I…I just need to figure out how to slip out of the house unnoticed, that's all. Truth is, I miss you. I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

There was a pause. "Are you free tonight? 9:30 at the restaurant, and then we can go from there?"

"Karen?" Damn. She heard the chorus of the kids' voices calling her name. They must have just gotten home from school. Her pulse quickened with the fear of being caught. She knew that being the outsider of their family meant that Olivia and Mason automatically had a loyalty towards their father and were liable to throw her under the bus at any moment. Sure, they liked her, they wanted to be around her, but when it came down to it, they would side with Stan any day. She cupped her hand to the phone, in an attempt to remain unheard. "I'll be there," she said to Will.

"I can't wait to hold you in my arms again. I'll see you then." They hung up, and Karen lingered on her bed, remembering his voice, smiling at the promise of his touch on her skin once again.

"Karen?" she heard again, this time clearer, closer. She turned to find Olivia at the door, gave her a soft "What is it, honey?" before standing up.

"Come here. I want to show you something."

She nodded and followed her stepdaughter's lead, towards the project she did in school that earned her an A.

And just like that, she was once again thrown into reality.


	7. Give Me A Reason

March 16th 1997

"Where are you tonight?"

Karen startled, forgetting that she was sitting across from Will. He took her to some small café on Tenth Street, and she tried to keep her mind on the moment, how he knew about this place, how his hand felt so soft, so warm, over hers. But in all honesty, she was thinking about home, about Stan, the kids. Olivia caught her trying to make a clean exit tonight while searching for her, wanting to say goodnight. She asked Karen where she was going. Karen didn't give her a clear answer, didn't answer the question at all, really; she simply smiled and said, "Don't worry, honey. I'll be back soon."

"Karen?" Will said, concerned.

"It's nothing, really, it's just…my stepdaughter caught me leaving. I mean, I thought I would be safe to leave; she was in her room and everything."

"You have a stepdaughter?"

"Yeah. A stepson, too." She took a breath before speaking, trying to figure out how to word this. "They're part of the reason I didn't call you until now. I know…I know that if I were to be found out, if I were to leave, it probably wouldn't make that much of a difference. They seem to like me, but I know on some level they're going to think of me as the one who's trying to replace Mom. They've already been through a lot with that divorce; I'd still feel bad if I caused another shake-up. Look, I want to make this work between us, I really do. I just don't know if I'm ready to pay the price yet. God, if only we had met before he put that damn ring on my finger."

Will sat there, silent for a moment, looking at her. He wished he could take away her pain, ease her conflicted mind. He wanted to take her in his arms so she could let her torment spill out, so he could absorb it so she didn't have to suffer. But as soon as he saw a tear roll down her cheek, he wanted to shatter. He knew that he was the one to do this. He knew that he was the one to hurt her this time, even when he was doing everything in his power not to. "What do you want me to do?" he asked.

"I want you to give me a reason to keep doing this."

Such a loaded demand. What if he were to give a response that wasn't good enough for her? What if his words made her reconsider him? "Yeah, it's been nice, but I don't think it's worth it anymore." He didn't want to hear anything resembling that, and tried to quickly come up with enough for her to want to stay with him. He moved his chair so that he was right next to her, put his arm around her shoulders, graced his free hand upon her cheek before speaking.

"You know how you get that feeling sometimes of falling for someone right away? You see it in movies, read it in books, and think it's so ridiculous, but once you feel it, you never want it to go away? I never had that with anyone. Until I met you. The night you were standing outside the restaurant…God, Karen, you were so beautiful. I hated him for standing you up, and I could tell it wasn't the first time you had your heart broken by him. I can't tell you why, but from then on, I've wanted to make sure that that never happens to you again. I know I can't give you the things you're used to. I don't have a lot of money. But I have my heart, and it's yours for the taking. Karen," he looked into her eyes, wiped away a tear that started to slide down her skin, "I think I…"

"Shhh," she said as she put a finger to his lips. "Don't say it yet." She pressed her lips against his. If he said it now, that he loved her, everything would become real. And although she knew that she was falling for him too, she still needed their time together to have that element of the dream state. He was Karen's getaway when life with Stan got too tedious. He was the one who would tell her everything she needed to hear, when Stan didn't have those words in his vocabulary. She still needed that to get through the day.

There was a time when Stan was able to say all the things to her that Will does now. But as soon as he first said he loved her, as soon as it became real, all of those words died in the dark, despite her attempts to save them. And Karen knew that if the same thing happened with Will, she wouldn't know how to handle it; she didn't know if she actually could handle it.

Karen sighed, tried to give Will a smile while brushing through his hair with her hand. "I should have known this wasn't going to be easy."

"Nothing actually worth anything ever is," he replied. "So if we've worked this hard over the course of a couple of weeks, then we must really have a good thing going."

She shook her head and laughed. "How can you make the toughest situations seem so desirable?" She wasn't looking for an answer, and he didn't seem to have one. She took refuge in the silence, pulled him closer to her. Karen realized the gravity of the situation she put herself in; she knew that either outcome would result in her being the bad guy or being heartbroken. If Stan ever found out, it would crush his seemingly perfect vision of their marriage. Then again, Will could just grow bored with her, find some flaw that he won't be able to deal with, realize that maybe this fight isn't worth it after all. He could so easily let her go, force her to fully return to her married life. And she found this scenario to be the harder of the two to swallow.

Will had shown her a different world that didn't revolve around money, business, high society, power. He had shown her a world with endless possibilities and unconditional love. If he were to take that away from her, Karen wasn't sure if she could ever go back to what she knew.

She took comfort in the fact that for now, he seemed to want to be with her and rested her head against his chest. "I wish I could spend the night with you," she whispered, then held her breath. Oh, god. That couldn't have sounded good. Nearly two weeks in, and already she's telling him she wants to spend the night?

"I wish you could, too," he replied and she was relieved. At least he felt the same way. She wondered if he realized that their future was so shaky, so uncertain, that he wanted to say and do everything while they still had time. She wondered if he realized that she felt it too.

She wondered how he would react to what she was about to say next.

"Stan's leaving on business in a couple weeks. The kids will be with their mother. I'll be alone for seven days."

Will smiled. "Then why don't you just stay with me? That way you won't have to be alone."

Karen stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you sure about that? I mean, seven days? You don't think that's too much time? Not that I don't want to spend time with you, but think about it. We barely know each other."

"Karen, all I want to do is spend as much time with you as I can. I want to wake up and find that you're next to me. I want to kiss you goodnight and hold you in my arms as you fall asleep. I just want to be with you. What do you say?"

She was amazed how someone could want her so completely. She couldn't remember the last time Stan said anything remotely like that. She couldn't even remember if he ever said something like that to her. But with Will, she believed everything he said. And trust was so hard to come by with her.

Karen brushed her lips against his, whispered against his skin.

"It's all I ever wanted."


	8. This Is How You Make Me Feel

**NOTE:** I sincerely apologize for how long it took to put this new chapter out. A family emergency kept me from writing. I hope to get the next chapter out within 24 hours of this update to make up for it.

April 4th 1997

She couldn't watch him leave. Not when she was going straight into the arms of another man afterwards. So she locked herself in the bathroom, trying to make it look like she wasn't home. She knew that Stan had taken the kids to their mother beforehand, and she wouldn't be caught. She could hear him in the bedroom, doing some last minute packing, calling her name once or twice in the hopes that she was just hidden in some corner of the house, that she was going to be there to say goodbye. When she heard the door slam, she turned the lock and looked outside.

Once the coast was clear, Karen made a dash for her closet.

She went to the back, started to blindly search around with her hands. When they finally landed on the box she was looking for, Karen pulled it out and sat down on the floor to open it. She knew what it contained, but once she revealed the contents, she was taken aback. This is what she was before she met Stan. This is what she was when she met Stan, before he started his slow and, for a long time, unnoticeable transformation of her. She was not Prada and Gucci all her life, contrary to popular belief. She was worn jeans and cotton t-shirts. She was tank tops and boxers at bedtime, not silk nightgowns like she was now. Stan had told her to throw all of this away, that she didn't need it anymore. He would be dressing her in style, and she wouldn't miss any of this.

She missed it every day. She wanted it every day.

Karen found a duffel bag in the box, packed it with a few pairs of jeans and t-shirts, stuffed a tank top and pair of boxers to sleep in over the week. She never wore these clothes around Will before; if she showed up in her usual costume, he wouldn't think anything of it. But she couldn't bring herself to wear them this week; they remind her of Stan, and the last thing she wanted to think about was him. Those clothes weren't her, they never made her feel like she was being herself.

In that skin, she was merely Stan's puppet.

Once she had everything packed, she took a white V-neck and jeans out of the box. There were holes in the knees; she remembered when this pair finally tore, but thought they did so strategically and decided to keep them because they still looked good. She slipped out of her skirt and blouse and put the outfit on, amazed that she still fit in it. She let her hair down and put the box back where it was before leaving her apartment.

When she exited the cab, Karen stopped in front of the door that would lead her inside 155 Riverside Drive. She almost wanted to turn around and see if the cab was still there, open the door and tell him to just drive her back home. But no, she wanted this. They both wanted this. She didn't want to disappoint him, but more than that, she wanted to prove to herself that she could do this.

She wanted to prove to herself that she could be happy.

The elevator ride seemed like an eternity before the doors opened and she came face to face with 9C. She took a deep breath before knocking on the door. She felt her nerves take over her body, forcing her little by little to give up control. She wanted to run, but she couldn't move. She wanted this week to be perfect, but knew that she probably wouldn't be able to contribute enough for the goal. But as soon as the door opened, and she saw Will standing before her, she knew that even if she didn't have control, he would be able to be her anchor.

"I'm so glad you're here," Will said.

"Are you as nervous as I am about this?" Her voice was shaky; she hated that. She hated that she just blurted that out, but she never lied to him before.

"More," he replied with a smile. "But I know that we're going to be okay. I can't wait to wake up with you tomorrow morning."

Will put his arms around her, led her inside. God, to feel her warmth. If this were his last moment on earth, he would die a happy man. He knew she would have reservations about being here, and to tell the truth, he had his own. Of course he thought about what it meant to have another man's wife live with him for the week, to have her sleep in the same bed with him, to kiss the skin someone else has kissed. He thought about what it meant to pretend that she wasn't with him, so that he could trick himself into sheer bliss. He actually considered calling her to say that he had to go away this week, that he apologized that it was such short notice, but he had to do it for work.

But then he thought about her, all alone in her house. He thought of her without anything but the thoughts of Stan keeping her company. And he couldn't let her stay by herself like that. He wanted to be with her, to keep her in his arms and listen to her wonderfully beautiful musings about everything. And he knew that to be with her this week was the right thing.

"I couldn't watch him leave," she said as she looked around, taking her surroundings in. Will took the duffel bag out of her hands, ran into his bedroom and placed it on the bed before coming back into the living room. "I didn't know how I could. What the hell was I supposed to say to him? 'Yeah, honey, have a nice time. Be safe. I'm just going to stay with my lover for the week, hope you don't mind.' Do you know how easy it would have been for me to just let everything slip?"

"I know it's hard. But you're here now. You don't need to think about that anymore." He brushed his lips against hers, kissed her cheek before she rested it on his chest.

"How do you do that? How can you just do something like that and make me forget everything?" She wasn't looking for an answer; she only wanted him to know how captivated she was by him.

After a moment, Will put his hand in his pocket and started fishing around. "Before I forget," he said. He pulled out a key and handed it to her. "Here. You know, so you don't feel like you're trapped here when you want to step out for a little while."

"You're giving me a key? You'll want it back when the week's over, right?"

"Not necessarily."

Karen shifted her glance from the key in her palm to his eyes and smiled. This is how she was supposed to feel. She spent so many years with Stan that she forgot what true happiness actually felt like. Stan tried to make her believe that money caused it, material things caused it, and after a while, she believed him. But Will showed her everything she loved about her life before she married, and she suddenly hated everything Stan stood for. And she wondered how she would ever be able to go back to that life once this week ends.

Will smiled and laughed a little, looking down at Karen's outfit. "What's with the jeans and t-shirt?" he asked playfully.

Karen looked down with him. She fixed her gaze on the holes in her jeans. "This is how you make me feel when I'm with you."

"What, torn?" he asked, motioning to the holes. She knew he was joking, but it did hold some truth. Although she was so tired of life with Stan, it was comfortable, it was what she knew for so long. But Will gave her excitement, joy. And she felt torn between familiarity and happiness. But that wasn't what she was getting at now.

"No," she shook her head and giggled. She looked up at him before speaking again.

"You make me feel real."


	9. It's Not That Easy

April 7th 1997

_Oh dear god. It's only 2:30 in the morning. I wonder if he's a heavy sleeper. Maybe I could just slip out before he notices. Grab my things and head home. I'm so…I don't even know what I am anymore. Damn it, I wish he'd wake up so I didn't have to destroy myself like this._

Karen couldn't shut her mind off. As much as she had been anticipating everything that had happened thus far, she was still caught by surprise every time. She stared at the clock on Will's nightstand, willing it to speed up so the sun would rise and she could forget about all the usual things that plagued her. She didn't want to be thinking of Stan right now. She didn't want to feel guilty. And she knew that if Will were awake right now, she wouldn't think or feel any of that. Karen always hated being left alone; it meant that she had nothing better to do than highlight and analyze her insecurities, her wrongdoings, her flaws.

She looked at the floor around the bed; their clothes lay lifeless, the warmth from their bodies' heat had surely left a long time ago. Karen drew her knees up to her chin and sighed. They had made love two hours ago. She knew it was two hours ago; she had glanced at the clock for a quick second while he was unzipping her jeans, saw little red numbers glowing. _12:30 AM_. Afterwards, they lay in comfortable silence until Will fell asleep, prepared to pick everything up off the floor when they woke up. But as hard as she tried, Karen couldn't close her eyes and drift off in his arms like she so desperately wanted to.

At 12:30 AM she was so concerned with his fingers on her skin that she didn't have the energy to think of all the things that she probably should have been. The things that she was thinking about now. She wondered what Stan was doing at 12:30 in the morning. She wondered if he was asleep then, if he thought about calling her. If he did call her and she wasn't there to take his call. Oh, god. She didn't even think about that. He had to have it all figured out, if he tried to call. How could she be so stupid not to think of that? He always called at least once when he was away on business, even if it was just to say he got there safely.

She would have to tell Stan. He would have to be heartbroken. She would have to end it with Will. He would have to be heartbroken. She would have to be alone.

It just couldn't go on like this much longer. Could it?

Karen heard the rustling of the sheets next to her. Will. She felt his fingers crawling up her bare spine as she hugged her knees tighter. She closed her eyes; she wanted to feel this one thing before it came crashing down. Even weak with sleep, he was the strongest person she ever knew. Even weak with sleep, his voice was the only thing that could calm her, even if she was too stubborn to realize it at times.

"Is everything okay?" he asked. She didn't answer; how could she? These past few days have been completely idyllic and perfect. She didn't have the heart to ruin it so willingly. Karen looked over at him; his eyes were adjusting to the idea of being open. Even in the dark, even when he wasn't completely awake, he was able to see how troubled she was. How could he do that? She had never met anyone else who could do that. She had never met anyone so in tune with her that he could just take one look at her and know that something's wrong, something's bothering her, something needs to be said.

He rested his weight onto his elbow, caressed her arm with his free hand. "Talk to me."

She took a breath, tried to speak. It couldn't come out. She shook her head and buried her face into her knees. After a moment, she turned her head to peek at him before whispering. Too soft, but it was the best she could do right now.

"How long do we really have?"

"Oh, Karen." There it was. The way he always smiled when he said her name. The way the smile brightened up the syllables, even in the most dismal of situations. He led her to him, and once she was resting against his body, he kissed the crown of her head. "I will never let anyone come between us. I promise you."

"We can tell each other that as much as we want. It's not that easy. What if I let something slip to Stan when I get home? How am I supposed to go back home when I don't want to leave you here?"

He took her hand in his, brushed his lips against her palm. "If you let something slip to Stan when you got home, you could come back here, and you wouldn't have to leave me again."

She laughed a small, breathless, helpless laugh. "You know what I mean," she said a bit louder than she wanted to. She never meant to raise her voice at him. "Okay, fine, let's just say that once this week's over, I go back home and go on with my jaded little life with my husband and I don't let on about you. Where do we go from there? Just back to our downtown secrecy?"

"We could. Or you could start coming here. Karen, you don't need to worry about it nearly as much as you are. We'll figure it out along the way."

Karen sighed and looked at him. "How can you be so sure of that?"

"Because when I look into your eyes, I see someone I can't live without, and I know that I would do anything to keep you in my life."

She was silent for a moment, rested her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, studied its song. It amazed her how much love Will already had for her. She tried to remember how quickly Stan fell for her. She tried to pinpoint the moment she realized that he was in love with her. But then she realized that she never knew the exact moment that happened, and wondered if it even did in the first place.

"I just…" she started to say it, but didn't know how to word it without hurting him. Will had so easily told her how he felt, and she wanted to give him the same, but… "If I knew how to do this without worrying about Stan ever finding out, I would fall completely in a second, but I don't know how to live in both worlds without them interfering, and because of that, I've been holding back."

"Wow."

"What?"

Will motioned to their naked bodies, covered with his sheets. "If this is what you call holding back, then I'm not sure if I'm prepared for what happens when you fall completely." He gave her a grin.

Karen laughed. As much as she didn't want to have this conversation, she welcomed his joke and took it as a sign that he wasn't hurt by what she just said. The last thing she wanted to do was cause him any pain. He didn't deserve it. If anyone did, it was she. Karen was the one to bring him into this mess. She could have easily stayed home that night, instead of walking to the restaurant to see if he was waiting for her.

"One more thing, though?"

"Yeah. What is it?"

He rested his lips on the crown of her head for a moment, just wanting to feel the weight of her in his arms. He understood why she was so worried; if the roles were reversed, he would feel the same way. He didn't blame her for anything; he never could do that.

"Just to let you know, so you're aware of it when you finally fall. It's actually the best feeling in the world when you hit the ground."


	10. Step On A Crack

**NOTE:** After a month of writer's block and finishing up this college semester, I finally was able to write a new installment. Now that I have a good idea of where I'm going with this, I should be able to get a chapter a day up here.

April 10th 1997

As a child, Karen would step on every crack on the sidewalk. She was partial to that childhood superstition; "Step on a crack, and break your mother's back." It was why she always saw her classmates jump from one block of concrete to another. She could never understand why they would ever do that. It only took her a couple of decades to realize that they actually had some semblance of respect for their mothers.

This is what Karen figured: if she was able to make this superstition work, then Lois' back would break and need a certain amount of recovery. Which meant that they couldn't move for a while. Which would give Karen plenty of time to make her case about whatever place they were living in at the moment.

It never worked. As hard as she landed on the cracks, she could never get her mother to break.

Until tonight.

Karen was outside their Washington Square apartment, staring at the park, the arch. She was going to do it; she was finally going to defy her mother's orders and cross into the park. Her mother would never notice; it was dark enough so that Lois couldn't see who it was walking along the grass. As far as Karen knew, she was asleep. There was nothing stopping her.

She waited until a taxi floated down the street. It was oddly quiet for a night in downtown Manhattan, but it didn't faze her. At seven, Karen was forced to go to bed at an early hour; it was easy to sneak out, but she was never bold enough to do it until now. She stepped onto the street and began to make her way towards the arch when she heard a voice.

"Kiki! Get back here!"

No. She was so close. She wasn't about to turn around now. She made it to the sidewalk on the other side of the street and turned around to see her mother crossing the street. "No!" She screamed, and jumped on the crack underneath her. Lois stopped. She seemed frozen. Karen wasn't satisfied; she stomped on the crack again and again. After a few tries, Lois simply shattered in the street. Karen watched as her mother broke into a thousand pieces, and knew that she wasn't about to start cleaning them up. She started running towards the arch.

But before she got there, she woke up.

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When Karen woke up, Will wasn't in bed. Lately, if she woke up in the middle of the night, he would be there to talk it out, so she would have an easier time falling back to sleep. But when she felt around his side of the bed, she didn't feel his skin. She turned around to find messy sheets and the door all but closed. They usually kept the bedroom door open; no one else lived here, so there was no reason to hide. But the small crack of light let her know that he was in the living room, and he didn't want to wake her.

Karen got out of bed, let her eyes adjust to being awake. She heard his voice, faint but he was definitely speaking. Probably a late night phone call to his mom or something, she thought. But then she heard a voice that didn't belong to him. Someone she didn't know.

A woman.

She opened the door slowly, doing her best to avoid making it creak. She took small steps down the hallway, hoping to leave her presence unknown. Karen found them on the couch; Will with some redhead next to him. Their backs were turned; his arm was around her shoulders as she rested her head on his. They were silent for a moment before the woman spoke.

"I should go."

Will turned his head towards her. "Are you sure you don't want to…"

She shook her head. "I shouldn't be here. I mean, you've got…"

"Sweetie, she's asleep. She doesn't even know you're here."

Karen should have known. She was cheating on Stan. She shouldn't have expected Will to be faithful when she wasn't. She quickened her pace back to the bedroom, put the door back in its place. She climbed into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. And as Will finally went back to bed, a tear rolled down her cheek.

She shouldn't have expected him to be completely faithful. But that didn't mean she wouldn't shatter when she found out. He might as well have stepped on a crack.

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He went to the kitchen to get something to drink. He looked over at Karen before he left; she was so peaceful in her slumber, and he didn't want to wake her. He closed the door so the light wouldn't bother her and went to get a glass of water. When he was about to go back into the bedroom, he heard a light knock on the door.

He opened it to reveal Grace in tears. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I don't know if I can take him much longer," she said softly.

Another problem with Danny. Will always thought that she should break up with him, but he never had the courage to say it. He knew that somehow, after all of the stuff he's put her through, Grace still holds a torch for Danny. They sat on the couch as she told him her latest problem. He did his best to mediate. And once the tears dried and she calmed down, Grace brought up Karen.

"So, you really like her, don't you?"

"Look, I know she's married. And I know it's not the most ideal relationship. But to look into her eyes, to hear her laugh and know that at that moment, it's only meant for me…that's all I need. She's beautiful, Grace."

She rested her head on his shoulder, let the silence take over for a moment before speaking again. "I should go."

"Are you sure you don't want to…"

"I shouldn't be here. I mean, you've got…"

"Sweetie, she's asleep. She doesn't even know you're here."

She shook her head and stood up. "Go back to her. I'm fine," she said with a smile. Will stood up and walked Grace out before going back to the bedroom. He wrapped his arms around Karen and kissed her cheek before settling in. He heard her softly speak, so faint he thought he imagined it for a moment.

"If I knew that's how it was going to go, I wouldn't have felt so bad about Stan."

Will regarded it as Karen talking in her sleep and didn't respond. He rested his head on the pillow and slowly drifted off to sleep.


	11. Enter Grace

April 18th 1997

_Beep_. "You have five new messages. Message one."

"Karen? Karen, are you there? It's Will, pick up. Karen? I know you have your own phone line, he won't hear this. Karen?"

_Beep._ "Message two."

"Please, Karen. I'm worried about you. You haven't called me in a week, I haven't seen you since you left my apartment. Call me back. Please. Just let me know that you're okay. I just want to know that you're okay. I love you."

_Beep_. "Message three."

"If I did anything at all to hurt you, I'm sorry. Please talk to me. I just…"

She turned the machine off at that point. She couldn't bear to hear the rest of the message, or the two to come. Karen hadn't taken his calls in a week, hadn't seen him. They were supposed to meet in Washington Square the night after she left for her home, but she no longer had any interest in seeing him. He called her, frantic because she didn't show up. He thought something happened to her. Let him think that. He didn't deserve to have his mind put at ease. Not after the way he betrayed her.

Eventually, he realized that she just wasn't talking to him. Karen couldn't believe that he still didn't know the reason why. It wasn't easy for her to let her guard down; she had done that when she first met Stan. He was first enamored with it, and then over time, the novelty of it all wore off for him, and he let her know. What he once loved about her he was now tired of, and Karen knew that if something didn't change, she would lose him. He was the first one in a long time to show an interest in her, and she didn't want to screw that up. So she put up a guard she didn't think she had and let Stan slowly transform her into the person he thought she should be.

It only took Will to make her understand that she was happier without the guard.

Maybe she shouldn't be so hard on Will. She went into this being unfaithful—one strike for her. And as much as she wanted to leave Stan, she couldn't completely let go of that part of her life just yet. But she thought she showed Will that she didn't care about Stan anymore, now that they were together. She thought that he believed her. He seemed to believe her. So why would he have someone else on the side?

No. Maybe she's going about this all wrong. Maybe _she's_ the other woman. Maybe they met with strings attached. She thought back to something he said during one of their first nights together. _I've spent my entire life looking for someone to love me as much as I do them. I thought I had it so many times, but they all grow bored with me. It's how it always goes, I guess._ Maybe he thought he had it with this other woman, but when he began to realize that he didn't have a strong connection with her, he decided to try something out with Karen. But why would he be meeting her late at night?

Come on, Karen, it's obvious. He found something for her inside him, and now he's just stringing the both of you along. Although this other woman knows about Karen. She didn't think Will could be so cruel to her.

She couldn't stay home; with the presence—however small—of Stan in the house mixed with the sound of Will's voice ringing in her ears made for an undesirable environment. She left despite Stan's questions of where she was going and hailed a cab to go downtown.

Maybe Washington Square Park wasn't the best choice for an escape. But right now, it seemed so much better than any other place in Manhattan.

She watched the cab drive across Washington Square North before she set foot on the grass. She passed the small playground and stopped for a moment, looking across the way to her old home. If she had tried hard enough, maybe she could have gotten her mother to stay here. She could have grown old enough to be here on her own. She could have run into Will earlier. She could have gotten to him before that other woman did.

Karen heard the sounds of other cars, taxis, forms of life go by. So many people in this city, but she was surprised that the world actually kept on going despite her life crumbling at the foundation. She knew she was alone, sitting on a park bench along the walking path; there may have been one or two people sleeping in the grass tonight, calling this place their home, but she knew that if she didn't go up to them, if she didn't bother them, they would not mind her intruding for just a little bit. She heard a door slam and a taxi drive off. Footsteps coming her way. The place she was sitting wasn't very well lit; maybe they wouldn't notice her and just keep on moving.

She wanted Will here. She wanted to feel the way she did the first time they walked the park, that feeling of defying her mother, of rediscovering herself in his kiss. She wanted to run to the arch and find him there, beg him for forgiveness before pressing her lips against his skin. But she knew he wouldn't show. She knew that he wouldn't be coming here tonight; he probably gave up hoping that she would call, that he would run into her someplace downtown. She knew that the footsteps coming her way didn't belong to him.

But as much as she harbored an anger towards him, she wanted them to be his.

She heard someone clear their throat a few paces behind her. It sounded like a woman. If Will wasn't going to show up, then she wanted to be completely alone. Maybe if she didn't say a word, this other person would go away. But she didn't.

She tapped Karen on the shoulder. Karen didn't budge.

"Excuse me?"

Karen knew that voice. It sounded familiar, but she couldn't place it. She knew she had heard it somewhere before, recently even, but the person it belonged to was escaping her. She didn't have the desire to turn around, though. She wanted to be alone. She didn't need anyone.

She spoke again. "Are you Karen?"

Oh god. Karen turned around.

"He told me I could probably find you here. He said you two are here a lot, so I could try here. I just wanted to talk to you."

Karen knew where she heard the voice before. One week ago. Late at night. She walked the hallway silently before finding them on the couch. His arm around her shoulders. Her head resting against his body. It was her voice. She never saw this woman's face before. She was gorgeous, a type of beautiful that Karen figured she could never achieve. She could see why Will wanted her.

The woman walked around the bench, found a place beside Karen to sit down. It was cold for an April night; although the woman was wearing a coat, she hugged herself for a moment before looking at Karen. After a moment, Karen returned her gaze.

"Hi. I'm Grace."


	12. If You Want Me

April 19th 1997

"What do you want with me?"

Karen turned her gaze from Grace to the ground beneath her feet when she spoke. The darkness of early morning hours hindered her sight to begin with, but even so, she couldn't look at her for very long. She blamed her for the way this week has gone. It didn't matter that Karen was the one who didn't call, that Karen was the one who didn't show up, that Karen was the one to virtually end it with Will without him knowing. She didn't care about that. It was Grace's fault.

She kept telling herself this so she wouldn't feel worse than she already did.

"Will was talking to me. He was really worried about you, said you wouldn't return his calls or meet him at nights. He didn't know what to do. But I figured it out. I thought I heard someone come out towards the living room that night when I was there. I'd be pretty suspicious too, if I saw that."

Karen scoffed. "So I guess he made you come out here to tell me that it was nothing and I should come back?"

Grace smiled at her a little. "Well, you're half right. He doesn't know I'm here. He started talking to me about you, and let it slip that you two come here a lot. I figured that I should start here. But he has nothing to do with it, it's all me."

"Then why are you here?"

"Because I see how much you mean to him. He hasn't been this happy in a long time; he doesn't want to lose you." Grace paused for a moment, trying to figure out how she should continue. "I was having boyfriend problems that night. Danny…he's just really immature more times than not, and I couldn't take it anymore. I went over to Will's because he's more levelheaded than I am when it comes to things like this. He talked me down, and after I felt better about things, I left. The next time he calls me, he's frantic, trying to figure out why you didn't show up at your date. I don't think he heard you in the hallway."

Karen looked at her once again. "Am I really supposed to believe that? You know I'm married, right? I mean, I guess it's only fair for him to have someone else, too." She stood up. "Look, it's generous of you to come out and try to get me to come back. But you can have him back. I'm done."

"I'm not dating Will!" Grace yelled a bit too loudly. She heard voices from other parts of the park, yelling back at her to shut up and let them sleep. She grabbed Karen's arm and pulled her back down to the bench. "We tried that once, like twelve years ago. Didn't really go very well, lasted about three months. I'd rather not go into the details right now." She let go of Karen's arm and started hugging herself again; the cold was getting to her. "I didn't come here because he told me to, I didn't come here because I'm dating him. I came here because I wanted to tell you the truth. He's miserable without you."

Karen was silent for a moment. The thought of Will flashed through her mind. She had been longing to just touch him, or talk to him at the very least. But she never thought of him as miserable without her. Her voice failed her as she tried to speak. "Why should I believe you?"

Grace looked Karen right in the eyes. "Why would I lie to you? I don't even know you."

She had a point.

Karen stood up again and started heading back the way she came. Grace wanted to follow her, but instead called out to her. "Where are you going?"

She turned to Grace, didn't stop moving. "To Will's." She ran towards the arch, hailed a cab, and made her way uptown.

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Karen leaned against the interior walls of the elevator, fishing in her pockets for the key. She knew that she tried to give it back to Will when she left, but he refused. He wanted her to keep it so she could feel free to come over whenever she wanted. She felt the metal against her palm and closed her hand around the key, looking up at the numbers flashing, telling her what floor she's passing next.

At the third floor, she wanted the elevator to speed up. She wondered if he was actually home when she got to the fifth floor. Passing the seventh floor, she was starting to have second thoughts. Once she got to floor eight, she wanted to go back down to the lobby and run through the doors.

The elevator opened to reveal the door to 9C. She knew it was late. She knew that if he was home, he would most likely be asleep. But maybe he couldn't sleep, and when she walks in, she'll find him on the couch killing time. Maybe he couldn't sleep because of her, because he wants her by his side. But she shook that thought from her mind. She shouldn't expect something like that from him. She treated him so horribly this past week. She didn't want him to be hung up on her like that.

Karen twirled the key around her fingers outside his door. She looked down at her clothes, the things she wears with Stan. It seemed as though she erased everything about the week she spent with Will. But she was in such a hurry to get out of the house, that she didn't even think about what she was wearing to the park. She didn't care. Will's seen her like this before, and he still loved her.

She put the key in the lock and opened the door. It was pitch dark; she knew Will was asleep. Knowing him, the door would be open. Maybe he would hear her out here and walk out. But she didn't want to wake him up. Karen sat down on the couch, leaned her head back and sighed. She knew she made a mess of things. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't forgive her.

"Karen?"

She turned around to find Will at the end of the hallway. She stood up and ran over to him, took him in her arms. "I'm so sorry," she said, over and over. Karen had planned to say something more, something with substance. He pulled away a little to look her in the eye. She had tears streaming down her cheeks.

"I was so worried about you." He paused for a moment before speaking again, not sure if he wanted the answer. "Why?"

"I thought you and that woman were dating. I saw you two late at night when I was staying here, and I just jumped to conclusions."

"You mean Grace? Oh, sweetie…"

"I know, I know. She found me at the park tonight, told me everything. I'm such an idiot. I'm so sorry." She buried her face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. "It's been hell without you," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Will kissed the crown of her head. "Does that mean I get to have you back?" he asked softly.

She looked up at him. "If you want me."

He brushed his lips against hers, all the answer she needed. "Spend the night with me. You're already out, I don't think he'll notice." She smiled at him, brightening up the dark room. She took his hand in hers.

"What are we waiting for?"


	13. Interlude: Ghost In My Head

**NOTE:** While this entire story has been inspired by this song, this interlude was especially influenced by Jill Hennessy's song "Ghost In My Head."

December 1999

If I knew beforehand exactly how this was going to go, if I knew when and where this was going to end, I wouldn't have become so invested in you. Screw intrigue. If I knew that you were going leave me like that, I wouldn't have even tried. I wouldn't have put my heart into this. I wouldn't have given everything to you. I probably wouldn't have even gone to the restaurant that night, to see if you would be there again.

I was foolish. I thought that the whole thing with Grace early on would be the worst thing we would have to go through. I wish I wasn't so willing to think that you would cheat. I know that you're not that kind of person. But it made me realize that I am. I went into our relationship with strings attached. I went into it without knowing that much about you. I went into it without caring about how anyone else felt. And I realized that I shouldn't have expected you to love only me. It's ideal, but nothing in life is ever perfect.

But then I found out that there was no other woman. I found out that you loved only me. And even though I wasn't perfect, this relationship was.

I've been trying to figure out when that stopped.

Maybe it started when I first stepped foot in that office. Even though you were the one to say that I should go to Grace Adler Designs, it was a step into your world, into her world. You were here every day, usually in multiple trips. You came to visit her, and in the beginning, you would come to spend time with me. As much as Grace said that she just wanted you to be happy, I knew that deep down, it pissed her off to have to share your time and attention with me. It was one thing for you to go off with me alone, but now I was in her world. And she wouldn't have any of that going on in her world.

You told me how she felt, as if I was completely oblivious to her during the day. You told me that you didn't care. You told me that she would come around eventually, and until then, you would keep doing what you were going to do. You told me that she wasn't going to be the deciding factor in our relationship. You told me that she wasn't going to come between us. And I believe you.

Just goes to show me that I didn't really know you at all. You're just a ghost in my head.

I remember so clearly the day I learned that you were no longer mine. I didn't hear it from you; I had to hear it from her. She was the one to break my heart, so you wouldn't have to. I guess you were the one to put her up to it; she seemed so nice to me that night in the park. She only wanted you to be happy. She'd do anything for you, even if it meant talking to the other woman in your life and convincing her to stay. Maybe it wasn't fair to Grace. It wasn't fair to thrust me into her life like that. But you told me it would be okay, you told me that she would be fine with it.

Maybe you didn't know her as well as you thought you did. Maybe you've got the same problem with Grace as I do with you.

Our days at the office are filled with silence. The only time she talks to me, the only time I'm ever willing to talk to her, is when she asks me to do my job. I never really listen to her orders. She once told me that things would have went better if I wasn't in her life so suddenly, if she didn't have to deal with me. So I just sit there, killing time, thinking that I'm getting her back for her comments, her actions. If she doesn't want me in my life, I should act like I'm not there; why do anything for her? I know it makes me look like a bitch, but I was like this when I was devoted to Stan. And it's making me realize why I kept this façade going for so long.

You can hide anything with a snide remark. It's like a homemade invisibility cloak. I get to hide the fragile woman I really am to the point that no one else knows that she still exists. They may not like it, but it works for me.

I'm standing underneath the arch, thinking about the first time you took me here, about all the times after that when we ended up here, even though we promised each other we would try new things. There's something about the park that screams safety, even though many would disagree, with the ones who make this park their home, the fact that it's so dark, you don't know what's lurking there. But they don't know what they're talking about; it's four in the morning, and the lights are still on. I remember walking down Fifth Avenue, and when we got to the corner of West Eighth Street, we could see the arch through the trees. If I stand here now, will you come down to Eighth and Fifth and see me underneath this thing? Will you be able to see past the trees in the dark and find me alone and wanting you?

Will you come back to me?

Grace wins, I guess. I shouldn't have thought that I ever had a chance against her. You knew me for a little over two years. You have fourteen years invested with her. It was a no-brainer. It only took me until now to figure that out. What can I say? I was in love; I let that cloud my judgment. I'm still in love, but I've had enough time away from you to open my eyes to what was going on around us.

I want to know how long it will take until this place becomes just another patch of grass to me again. I want to know how long it will take until this place once again becomes a place that I was forbidden from exploring as a child, a place that I would always wonder about but never actually step foot in. I want to know how long it will take until I can look at downtown Manhattan the way I used to. I want to know when I'll stop thinking of you.

True, I don't want to stop thinking of you. But I haven't seen the Will Truman I knew and loved in months, and mourning the loss isn't helping me. I'd like to think that it wasn't you at all who wanted to end it; I'd like to think that Grace was just jealous that you were spending time with someone else, and she decided to take matters into her own hands. But you've made no attempt to see me. I know you haven't. I've been to all the places you took me to, hoping I would run into you, or you were searching for me just when I was trying to find you. I would skip out on work and move from building to building, coffee shop to coffee shop, bookstore to bookstore. I was even tempted to take the subway to Coney Island, remembering the one day you took me out there to walk along the beach as the sun set. We only went there once, but it was worth a shot.

I never made it out there. Maybe you were there the entire time, and I missed my change.

I don't want to blame you for any of this. And as much as I say I blame Grace, or any other outside influence for that matter, I can't. I knew what I was getting into. I knew what was at stake. I didn't care. I was reckless. It was fun, but I always wondered how long I could keep going like this. Sooner or later, recklessness always leads to someone getting hurt. I just didn't think that would happen with us.

I've had my heart broken so many times in my life. People come and go; I learned that at seven years old when my mother sat me down on the couch and told me that Daddy was dead. It was reiterated when the ones I loved started losing interest in me. But for some reason, that didn't stop me now.

It was my fault, all of this was my fault. I don't deserve to find you in the bookstore or the coffee shop or even Coney Island. I don't deserve you finding me underneath the arch, even if you're on the corner of Eighth and Fifth. I don't deserve Grace coming out here again to tell me how miserable you are without me. I set us up for disaster.

But you loved me anyway.

Maybe you realized where we were headed before I did. Maybe you wanted to stop us before we crashed into reality and couldn't recover. Maybe I should be thanking you instead of wanting to turn back time and hold you in my arms just one more time.

Or maybe I should just realize that true love was never meant for me.


	14. Great Escape

September 12th 1998

"I need to get out of here."

She didn't laugh this time; he could usually hear her laughing on the other end of the phone line when she said this, and because of that, he never really took her seriously. Will knew that at the end of the day, she would go back to him, to his kids, to the life she had before he walked in and made himself comfortable. But this time, he knew Karen was serious. He knew she probably took the cordless phone into the bathroom and locked herself inside, so she could pour her heart out to him. And he truly believed her this time. She wanted to get out.

"I'd say come live with me, but we both know how that will go over with everyone else. You'd have to come clean about everything, and I don't want to put any more pressure on you."

"I'm fine when he's asleep, when the kids are in bed, but I just can't handle it when they're up and around. I feel like they can sense what I'm doing. I can't deal with that. I need to get out of here," she repeated, "but I just don't know where I would go."

"What about taking a small job somewhere? Not that you need the extra money, but it would take your mind off of everything."

There was a brief silence. "You're kidding, right?" Karen said. "Honey, I haven't worked a day in my life."

"Are you serious? What did you do to get by?"

"My mom always found a way to get the money we needed. When I was sixteen, I left her and took all the money I could find from her bedroom. That surprisingly lasted me until I found someone who loved me, who was wealthy, and was willing to pay for everything I needed. I ended up doing that until I got married. Think of it as a small step above prostitution."

"You never loved anyone you were with?"

"No, I did, eventually. But not soon enough to actually save the relationship. So I would be grieving while trying to scout out the next potential flame. I know that's screwed up, I see that now, but it's not like I can take it back."

"No, I wasn't judging you." Will paused for a moment. "Did you ever love Stan?"

"Maybe. Probably. I don't know. I kept telling myself that I did, but I don't know if I ever believed myself when I said that. Wait, I thought we were talking about how to get me out of here. Since when did that become the code for 'Let's see if we can get Karen to pour her heart out again?'"

Will laughed; he could hear her soft giggle through the phone. "Don't worry about that. I have that handled. Let me make a phone call. Will you meet me at Washington Square in twenty minutes? Then I can take you over to this place."

"Sure. It's broad daylight," she stressed, jokingly, since they've only gone to the park when it was pitch black outside, "but I should be able to slip out. The kids are with friends, and Stan doesn't really pay attention anymore. I'll see you soon."

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"Are you kidding me?" It was in a whisper, but Will could tell that Grace was slightly pissed. They had Karen wait outside in the main office while they talked in the swatch room of Grace Adler Designs. "First of all, you called me out here on a Saturday that I'm not working, but I'll forget about that for the moment. She has no experience; I'd be better off hiring an infant to be my assistant. Will, why do you want this for her? I'm pretty sure she doesn't even want to be here."

"She can learn. How hard can it be? Use the fax, answer the phone. Sort what needs to be sorted. And of course she wants to be here." He took a breath before continuing. "Look, she needs to get away from him. Her husband. I thought this would take her mind off of things for a little while." Will took a hold of Grace's hands. "I wouldn't be asking this of you if she didn't mean everything to me."

Grace seemed to soften up a bit. "Fine. She can work here. I'm just worried about you. I don't know if she's the best thing for you."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean…come on, Will, she's married. There are kids involved. Granted, they're not hers, but she's invested. You don't know when she could flip and say she wants to be with him and him alone. This is way too risky for you, for anyone. I know I'm not the best person to give out dating advice, but you've got to see where I'm coming from. I just don't want you getting hurt."

"Don't you think I already considered all of this? I've thought of every possible scenario, and I always come to the same conclusion. I would rather love her for a day, a week, a month, a year, and get my heart broken than leave her and wonder what could have been. I don't want anyone else. I know she has baggage, and I know that it's more than most, but if I cared about any of that, I would have left a long time ago. And if the time comes when she decides that we can't work anymore, then at least I'll know that I did everything in my power to make sure she knew she was loved."

Grace looked at Will, her eyes filled with pity, but he could never tell that. To give your heart to a married woman; is there anything more tragic than that? She remembered staying up with Will at night, talking about relationships to come, what they wanted from another person. Monogamy was always at the top of his list. Was Karen truly in love with him, or did she just put the blinders on Will for her own sick amusement? Grace couldn't be sure yet; true, Karen did seem upset last year, when she believed that Grace was his lover, but for all Grace knew, it was an act.

In all honesty, she had no idea what to think of Karen Walker.

But she also knew that Karen made Will happy, and for that reason, she stepped outside of the swatch room. Karen was seated at the desk near the door, almost as if she was on the job already. Her head was bent as she looked at her hands, folded in her lap. Grace wondered if she heard what she and Will said, but soon realized that she didn't when Karen looked up and jumped at the unexpected sight of them in the room.

"Sorry about that," Grace said, as genuinely as she could, but even that was fake. "I just needed to talk to Will for a second."

"That's fine. I didn't mean to impose on you in the first place," Karen replied.

"But," Grace started as she extended her hand, "I want to welcome you to Grace Adler Designs."

Karen took Grace's hand and shook it as a smile grew on her face. "Really?" She stood up. "Thank you so much!" Karen looked at Will as he opened his arms to her. She kissed his cheek before whispering in his ear. "I hope you know how amazing you are. I can't believe you set this up for me." She pulled away just enough to face him before he brushed his lips against hers.

All along, Grace was watching. All along, Grace was wondering when they would start to crack. All along, Grace started to dislike Karen more and more.

All along, Grace was regretting this decision to bring Karen into her world.


	15. Omission

November 15th 1998

"Grace Adler Designs?" Karen chirped into the phone.

"Is she there?"

"No, she's out to lunch, she'll be back in a few minutes. Will, why don't you just come over to the office? I haven't seen you here for weeks. I miss you." She realized how odd that sounded. "I mean…I know I see you at night, but it's not the same. The reason I took this particular job, aside from the fact that you set it up for me, was that I thought I would get to see you in daylight and not have to worry about anything. You know, since Grace knows about us."

"I know, and I wish I could, it's just…I don't know if it's such a good idea anymore."

Will never told her about the conversation he was cornered into by Grace a few weeks ago. Something along the lines of "It really pisses me off that you're constantly here to see her, but I never get any time with you, and wasn't I the reason you started coming here in the first place?" He couldn't remember exactly how she worded it, but he got the gist of it. And as much as he wanted to see Karen during the day, he knew that Grace would be upset. He didn't want to lose her, and he didn't want Grace to take out her anger at him towards Karen. He couldn't tell Karen about any of this; she would blame herself, and that was the last thing he wanted.

Karen was taken aback by Will's bluntness. "Oh. Okay."

Oh, god, the sadness in her voice. He was never able to handle the fact that he hurt someone, especially her. He made it his personal goal to make sure that she was happy whenever she was in his presence. He never wanted to lie to her, and he knew this omission would most likely come back to bite him in the ass later. He had to make it up to her.

"Can you meet me in Washington Square before sunset? I want to take you somewhere."

He could hear the smile in her voice. "Where are we going?"

"Well, if I told you that, it wouldn't be a surprise. I promise you'll love it."

Karen heard the door open, footsteps coming closer. She knew she had to end the call before Grace found out who it was. Karen knew she wasn't too fond of the relationship, and as much as she wanted to throw it in her face that they were still going strong, she wanted to keep as comfortable a work environment as humanly possible. "I guess I can wait," she whispered as Grace made her way to her desk. "I have to go. But I'll see you soon."

Grace saw the smile on her face and knew who it was on the other line. She knew Karen wouldn't tell her the truth. And when she hung up, Grace asked, "Who was that?"

Karen jumped at her voice, not expecting Grace to talk to her right after she got off the phone. "Oh, don't worry about it, honey, it was for me."

Sneaky little thing. She expected Karen to do that, but she let it go. She knew she was the reason Will wasn't coming by the office anymore, and although she missed his visits, she was happy. As much as she didn't want to admit it, she was insanely jealous of Karen. She had what Grace lost. She had what Grace wanted back for so long after she lost it. She had what Grace still wanted, even if it's subconscious, even if she thinks she's suppressed those feelings. She was like a child; even though she was content with the way things were before, once someone else had it, she wanted nothing more than to get it for herself.

Will broke her heart. Granted, their relationship lasted mere months, but she fell fast. She thought she would marry him. And when he proposed to her, she was sure that this would last. But then there was the bombshell, and she kicked him out. She was humiliated, but even though she knew she couldn't have him anymore, she couldn't get over it. And when she thought she did, she moved on to others, while Will went from one to another until he found Michael. She was never threatened by the men in his life. Only until Karen came along did Grace feel something against the one Will was dating. And she could never figure out what it was about Karen, until now.

Karen was a woman. She hadn't seen Will with another woman since they broke up. Grace could have been Karen.

Grace realized that she had been staring at Karen when she heard her voice. "Is something wrong, honey?" Karen asked in a slightly irritated tone.

"What do you see in him?" she heard herself say. She surprised herself with that one.

"What are you talking about?"

"He'll break your heart, sooner or later," Grace said as she started making her way to the swatch room. "He won't show up to one of your little dates, or he'll say something he shouldn't, something he doesn't really mean, and you'll catch on to him. I've seen it happen. I know you don't want to think of him like that. But don't say you didn't see it coming when it happens. I've known him for years, I've seen almost every relationship he's been in, I know what he does. Just wait."

Grace walked into the swatch room. She didn't see Karen's tears starting to roll down her cheeks. She felt bad for saying that, for a moment. She tried to tell herself that she was only warning her, but she knew better than that. Grace walked back out into the office and stopped at Karen's desk. She knelt down to her level and took Karen into her arms.

"Oh god, Karen, I'm so sorry I said that. It's a long story, but I dated Will for a little while back in college. I just know how much he hurt me, but I'm sure he won't do that to you. Forget I said any of that, okay?"

Karen put her arms around Grace, returning the hug. "Don't worry about it, Grace. It's fine."

That was enough of an acceptance of her apology for Grace to return to her work. She figured Karen would forget about it. She figured Karen would go on about her business, meet Will tonight, and be so completely absorbed in him that she would forget that interaction ever took place.

But when the day was over and Karen was waiting for him in Washington Square, she couldn't get what Grace said out of her mind. In all honesty, she didn't know that much about Will when they started out. And she didn't make an effort to learn more about him during their time together; she thought she knew all she needed to in order to make it work with him, and up until now, she was right. But what if Grace said would turn out to be true? What if he didn't show tonight? Or if he did, would she be overanalyzing every last word of every sentence he spoke? Would she believe anything he says tonight?

Karen felt arms wrapping around her waist. "Found you," Will said before he kissed the nape of her neck. "If you want, we can come back here to the park after we're done. Ready to go?"

She nodded softly and let Will lead her to the subway station, to the F train, to the mystery destination. But she was somewhere else tonight. She would go through the motions, say what Will needed to hear tonight, but she couldn't stop thinking about what Grace said. She couldn't stop thinking that this would be the last time she would be with him like this.

She didn't want to be right.

But she figured she probably was. It was only a matter of time.


	16. You Can Break A Heart

November 15th 1998

He chose the downtown train and a car that only held a few people, opened up his arms for her to crawl inside and rest for the ride, let her cover herself in the blanket he brought along. From where they were seated, they could see everyone in the car, seemingly engrossed in the _Times_ or the _Post_ or the music blaring from their Walkman. They could care less about the couple in the corner, supposedly off to some romantic getaway, if only for an hour. They could care less about the uncertainty festering Karen from the inside out. Funny how the world can stop for one person while everyone else has the capacity to move.

Will was silent during the ride, giving her time to think. She thought about those cracks on the sidewalk, how she wanted so desperately for that superstition to work in her favor when she was younger. Maybe it would have worked if she didn't try so hard. She thought about Will, their relationship as it stands now. They weren't like they used to be. She didn't feel the same sensation she used to when he pulled her into his arms. He didn't seem to light up the same way when she said his name. They were cracking, slowly but surely. And they were probably stepping on the cracks all the time; they were never fans of caution.

She wondered if you can break a heart the same way you supposedly break your mother.

The train stopped abruptly, jerking Karen back into reality. When it started moving again, she could see the earth, far from what she expected to see on the subway. Manhattan didn't have any tracks like this. She sat up. "Are we in Brooklyn?!" she exclaimed a bit too loudly. The man across from them looked up from his _New York Post_ and gave her a look. Karen shrunk in her seat, embarrassed to have made herself noticeable.

Will laughed quietly and kissed the crown of her head. "Calm down. Yes, we're in Brooklyn," he whispered in her ear.

She looked at him for a moment. "Honey, where the hell are we going?"

"We're almost there. Just give it a few minutes."

Another red flag. Karen always trusted him when they went somewhere unfamiliar to her. It's so easy for someone to get lost in the city, but with Will, she always knew she would be safe. She should have trusted him now. But for whatever reason, she was more nervous than she had ever been. She tried to think of everything she's heard about Brooklyn but came up with nothing. She didn't know if she could trust him with this one.

She wondered which crack she just stepped on to make that happen.

When they got out of the train, she heard seagulls. What the hell? This is not New York; New York is pigeons, sirens, car horns, people shouting. She found the sign that told her where they were: "CONEY ISLAND."

Will took her hand, quickened his pace. "Come on, we're going to miss it if we keep standing here."

They moved past boarded storefronts and the closed rides that made Karen wonder what was so damn special about the area in the first place. Once they got to the sand, she knew. The oranges and pinks of the sky bleeding together, meeting the ocean. A sunset on the beach; when they first started dating, Karen told him that the one thing she wanted to do was see the sun setting against the beach. She had never been on the sand before, or if she had, she was too young to remember it. She looked back at Will, who laid the blanket down on the sand for them to rest on.

"You remembered." She didn't pose a question; it was more like a meek statement. She sat down next to him as he smiled.

"I remember everything you've said to me since you told me you wouldn't talk to me because you didn't know me. You just seemed so lost that night at the restaurant, I wanted to take you away from all of that. That's why I stayed, waited for Stan to show up with you."

She looked out towards the sunset. "Sometimes I wish he did show up that night, just to see how he would react to you standing next to me. To see if staying with him is even worth it, to see if I should have just said 'Screw it' and left with you, never looking back."

"Do you wish you could do that now?" he asked. They never touched on that subject before, and Karen pictured him asking this question, it wasn't in a somber tone. It was in a voice filled with hope and opportunity, as if nothing else mattered but the two of them.

"Yeah," she whispered. "I just don't want to be the one to break up another family for the kids." Crack.

Will fell silent. She brought up the kids. She made her other life real to him. He didn't want it to be real. He lived in a world where he was the only one for her, and he would soon be able to sleep next to her, to wake up to her smile. He thought about Grace, what she said before he left, what she was bound to say when he got back, what she's been saying ever since Karen started working with her. Nothing that's worth it is ever easy, he would tell her. His only line of defense. And it worked most of the time. Lately, though, he was beginning to wonder if he really believed it.

"I'm sorry," Karen said. "I didn't mean to bring something like that on our evening. It's just that I don't know where to go these days. I don't really have Stan anymore. I tried to find sanctuary in the office, but Grace isn't exactly hospitable despite her attempts. I just don't want to lose you, too. You mean too much to me. I finally know why life is so valuable."

"Karen," Will said softly as he cradled her in his arms, feeling the warm sting of her tears against his chest. "When I told you that no one will come between us, I meant it. Grace is only nursing a few unhealed wounds. Stan doesn't know what he's losing."

"I don't love him anymore." It was the first time he ever heard her say that. "I don't want to be there anymore."

"Then come with me." It was a reflex, impulsive, but he was pretty sure he meant it. Even if he didn't, he couldn't go back now. "Remember when you came to stay with me? It could be like that all the time…well, Grace is there now, but it'll be like she isn't, I promise."

She laughed. "Do you really mean that?"

"Of course." He couldn't tell if he was lying or not. "We'll figure it out in the next few days. I told you I wasn't going to let you hurt anymore."

She believed him; she truly believed him.

Later, she would realize it was stupid. Later, she would know that it was childish. Later, she would know that she was naïve. Later, she would understand all the destruction that she would have been responsible for. But now, she couldn't think of any other plan that led to true happiness. She always trusted Will in the past. The Brooklyn anxiety was only a fluke; it had to be. Now, she believed that he should be trusted.

She was unaware of the possibility that he was merely stepping on the cracks that had formed under their feet.

She was unaware that you could break a heart like that. She was unaware that he was capable of something like that.

But she would eventually find out.


	17. Final Word

November 16th 1998

"Will? Grace is here to see you."

"Uh…yeah, send her in."

Of course. Lately, Grace had a habit of showing up at the most inconvenient times. He had just gotten off the phone with Karen—she had found an opportunity where Grace was out of the office; now he knew why—and he knew that Grace would most likely have something to say about last night. She walked in and took a seat in front of his desk. She looked down at her lap, like she was almost ashamed to ask him what he knew she was going to ask. "So how was last night?"

"Confusing, if you want the truth. Why do you have to keep saying all those things to me? It's bad enough that I have my own reservations to deal with."

"What things? I don't know what you're talking about."

"You have something against her. You keep telling me that she's married and that she has strings attached. You keep telling me that she's going to hurt me. And I don't know why you can't just let me handle this relationship myself."

"Will, I don't have anything against her. Yes, I admit that I said some things to you, and to her as well. But it was only my way of protecting you. I saw how much Michael hurt you. Granted, you haven't been with Karen for seven years, but this is definitely long term. But I have to say this." Grace took a breath. "If you were truly confident with your relationship, you wouldn't have even considered what I had to say. You have to give me that."

She stood up and walked over to the other side of the desk, kneeling down to Will's level. "Maybe you should take a breather and just think about things. I'm not saying break up with her. I'm just thinking that you should take a moment and evaluate everything."

Will paused for a moment, wondering whether or not he should reveal this bit of information to Grace. "She told me she didn't love him. I said she stay with me, and we would work everything out in the next couple of days. I just got off the phone with her, and that's all she talked about."

"Did you mean all of that?" Grace asked. She tried to mask the fact that she hated this little twist, especially now that Will took her in after her break-up with Danny. She failed at hiding it.

He sighed, put his head in his hands. His reply was faint, but Grace was able to make it out. "I don't know."

She pulled him in and let him rest there for a moment. "Then maybe you should wait until you do know to bring it up again."

Grace stood up and walked towards the door after saying her goodbyes. Before she shut the door behind her, she swore she could hear Will speak out loud.

"Maybe you're right."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"I honestly think that if Grace was out of the picture, there wouldn't be a problem."

Karen looked at Jack sitting next to her in a chair he stole from Grace's desk, waiting for his response. She never expected to take such a liking to him so quickly, but he took her mind off of all the heavy things looming over her. She didn't know how well he would handle a serious conversation like this, but she really couldn't go to anyone else. Right now, she needed him to listen. She needed him to tell her what he thought about everything. She needed the serious advice that would lead her to make the right decision about things.

"I still don't understand why you're with him, Kare," Jack replied matter-of-factly. "You're above him and you know it."

"Jack, don't say that. That's not what this is about." He never fully grasped the concept that she felt like she didn't belong in the life that Stan gave her. He thought that she was born into money, that she was like this her entire life. Sometimes she liked to let him think that. It gave her the opportunity to forget about her miserable childhood, the hard times she's had in the past, and make up whatever seemed like the ideal life. But now, she couldn't handle any of that. "I don't love Stanley anymore, honey. Will told me he would take me in. I think I'm going to do it."

"Are you insane? Do you know how much you're going to give up if you do that? Did he even mean it?"

"He told me he did."

"But did you believe him?"

"Yeah. I mean, I should, right?" She didn't wait for him to respond. "He's been seeming a little distant lately. Maybe he sees something in all of this that I can't. But I don't get why he would offer something as big as this to me."

"Maybe it's a last ditch attempt to keep the flame alive."

Karen stared at Jack. He didn't have to put it so bluntly, but maybe he was right. Maybe Will thought if this didn't work, then they weren't worth saving. Maybe he's expecting something out of Karen to make him feel as though all the hard work has paid off. But then what happens if she doesn't deliver? What happens when Will is not completely happy? Will they be done? And what if, by some horrible twist of fate, he didn't actually mean what he said?

"Maybe it was just a ploy to get me to stop thinking about Stan." She was surprised that those words spilled out of her mouth. "It worked," she said meekly.

"I don't think Will is the kind of person to say something and not mean it. I could be wrong. But I think I've known him long enough to know his behavior. You just need to decide what you think is real and what isn't."

"And if I can't do that?"

"I can't answer that."

Jack stood up, put the chair back in its place by Grace's desk. He looked at Karen and didn't see the bright, confident figure that he loved and, although he never mentioned this to her yet, looked up to. Instead, he saw a woman who was on the verge of breaking. He walked over to her and began to speak. "We're probably thinking too much about this," he said. "He'll call you and plan out everything and you'll move in with him and live happily ever after, or however the story goes."

Jack left Karen to herself. Maybe he was right about Will, maybe they'll have some sort of fairytale ending. Sure, it was a bit childish to think that, and she never would have thought of anything like that before she met him, but Will brought out a side in her that she never expected to come out again. Maybe she was overreacting about his sudden lack of communication.

But she couldn't help feeling a massive weight of doubt on her shoulders.


	18. Declare A Winner

November 27th 1998

_I can't do this anymore. I wish I could say that I was happy; I know how much we put into this. I know how much we wanted to make it work. And I didn't want to be the one to break this up. But I think that this would be the best thing for the both of us. You can call me a coward for writing this out, for not being able to tell you all of this in person. I've already picked that name out for myself. You once told me that the only thing you wanted was for me to be happy, as much of a cliché as that is. And I know you weren't lying._

_I'm sorry,_

_Karen_

She wrote it out to Stan as soon as she got back from Coney Island that night. It was fresh in her head, and since she knew she would never be able to muster up enough courage to tell him herself, she wanted to write it all down. She was willing to take the easy way out; slip out of the manse with enough packed to get by for a couple days, sneaking back in whenever Stan was gone to get the rest of her things. Karen figured she would be setting the letter down on his nightstand within two or three nights of writing it. But Will never called about leaving. He never called at all now. It had been over a week now. She tried his phone at least twice a day, but always got the same thing.

At home: "You've reached Will and Grace. We're not in, leave a message at the tone."

At work: "I'm sorry, Mr. Truman isn't available at the moment. Can I take a message?"

Maybe it was a little forward, a little invasive, to walk into his apartment and wait for him to show up. She didn't care. He gave her a key to use whenever she wanted; she was in the right. She wanted to know what she did to make him avoid her. She wanted to know why he was seemingly going back on his word. She wanted to know why, all of a sudden, things changed.

Will walked in to find her sitting on the couch, hands in her lap, staring straight ahead. She looked as though she were made of stone, unable to move, unable to feel, and he wondered if he was the one to do that to her. "Karen, what are you doing here?" He realized that sounded cold. He hung his jacket up and rephrased his question while he walked towards her. "What's wrong?"

"Why haven't you answered my calls?" she shot at him, never turning her glance towards him. "I haven't seen you in over a week. I haven't heard anything from you but a pre-recorded voice. I want to know what's going on."

"Look…maybe we're fooling ourselves." She looked at him; he knew he answered her quickly. The truth was that he had expected her to be here eventually, and he tried to put everything in perspective before it happened. "We've been playing with fire. You know that if you came to live here, it would never work out. I can't give you what you have now. You would be throwing so much away, and I don't want to be the one to make you do that. We always said that nothing would break us apart, but maybe we're only setting ourselves up for a bigger disaster by keeping this up."

"What are you talking about? When have I ever cared about any of that? If I wanted any of what he gave me, I would be in Prada instead of ripped jeans right now. If I wanted that, I wouldn't be here wanting to make this work." She moved towards him, taking his hands in hers. "Will, I love you. Only you. I know that now. I don't want to go back to him. Don't make me go back to him. " She buried her face in his chest. "Don't spout off Grace's opinion just to please her. Do what you want."

"I just…" he started. "I just don't want this to be so hard."

"Nothing worth it is ever easy," she replied softly.

At that moment, Grace walked in. "What's going on?" she asked as she set her key on the coffee table.

"Nothing," Will said reflexively. He held Karen close and told her softly, "Go to Washington Square Park. I'll be there soon." She looked up at him, brushed her lips against his quickly, so as not to make a scene with Grace, and walked out the door. Will sighed and walked over to Grace.

What he said: "I can't do this anymore."

What he meant: I can't listen to you about her anymore. She's the one; you can't see that.

What Grace heard: I can't be the one to break her heart.

Grace picked her key back up and said, "Don't worry about any of it. I'll handle this."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Karen stood underneath the arch, her back turned towards Washington Square North. She felt a hand on her shoulder and immediately grew nervous. This didn't feel like Will; this didn't have the same warmth and love it did when he touched her. She turned around and saw, out of the corner of her eye, the red locks that she knew belonged to Grace.

"What are you doing here?" Karen asked.

"Look," Grace replied, cutting to the chase. She wanted to get it over with, because she knew how this situation would turn out. "Will doesn't want to hurt you. But he can't do this anymore."

"Will you stop already? Honey, whatever grudge you have against him because of your failed relationship, just let it go. It was thirteen years ago. He wouldn't tell me to meet him here if he was going to send you to tell me it's over. I can almost guarantee you that he didn't say any of that."

"Karen, I am not lying to you. I'm not saying this because of what did or didn't happen between me and Will a thousand years ago. I'm saying this because I care about you. He said that, word for word. I'm so sorry."

Karen could tell Grace was serious. The tone in her voice was unlike anything she'd ever heard from Grace, from anyone, for that matter. She reached in her pocket and grabbed the folded letter to Stan, the one she was hoping to use tonight. She crumpled it up into a ball, kept it in her fist, feeling the slight pain of the edges and grooves of the paper digging into her skin. She turned to Grace and looked at her for a moment, tears in her eyes, before making the move to leave.

"You win," she said, before leaving Grace behind.

Grace stayed by the arch for a few minutes after Karen left. She started to evaluate what she'd done, tried to tell herself that she was doing a good thing, that she was being a friend to Karen and letting her know the truth. But she quickly knew that she could tell herself anything and it wouldn't erase the fact. She was a bitch.

She saw a figure walk up to her. "Where's Karen?" She jerked her head up to find Will.

"Wait, what are you doing here?" Grace asked. "I thought I told you I was going to handle this."

"Handle what?" They were silent for a moment. Will began to put it together. _I can't do this anymore_. Oh god. She took it the wrong way. "Grace, you didn't…" he started. She looked down at the ground. "I can't believe you," he said and started running up Fifth Avenue, towards Karen.

Towards the million failed attempts of getting her back.


	19. The Undone One

December 6th 1998

It was that top, the one with burgundy and white stripes, that she was wearing when Will spilled his coffee outside that little independent bookstore in the Village and laughed it off. It was the olive green sleeveless she was wearing when he bought her sunglasses from a street vendor before heading into Central Park, a place with a higher risk of being noticed, hoping they would mask her from the public eye. It was the pair of jeans with the small hole in the mid-thigh she was wearing when she was in his arms on his couch and he made the joke that he wished that hole was a little higher.

Each with a memory Karen wished would go away. She hadn't touched this box of clothing since Grace found her in Washington Square. She didn't have a reason to, anyway; those clothes were meant to be worn for Will, and now that he was no longer in the picture, there was no longer a reason for her to look inside. But today she felt the need to close the box up. She sneaked into Rosario's room to take a roll of packing tape and dashed to her closet before anyone realized where she was. The box was displayed prominently towards the back of the room, with clothing strewn on the floor surrounding it. She sat down and began folding each piece, putting it back in the box for good.

It was the navy blue button-down she was wearing when they got caught in the rain on the way to a music venue in the East Village; they stopped at the intersection before the building and kissed. It was the gray tank top she was wearing before he took it off the first time they made love. It was the simple black long-sleeved shirt she was wearing when she showed up at his door unannounced for the first time, and she was greeted with open arms.

One by one, she put the shirts and jeans in the box. It was the oversized flannel—she couldn't even believe she had something like this in there—she was wearing when the heat gave out in Will's apartment one night. The golden t-shirt she was wearing the first time they walked through SoHo together, deciding soon after that they should stop at Little Italy. There was still a faint stain from the piece of chocolate cake she dropped on herself in the restaurant on Mulberry they ate at. "No one saw that," he said, the both of them laughing.

"Karen?" she heard a faint voice. Stan's voice. It sounded like he was downstairs; she still had time to pack the remaining clothes up. It was the brown sweatshirt she was wearing when she first told Will she didn't love Stan anymore. She heard him coming closer, each "Karen?" becoming louder and more distinct. There was one outfit left out of the box, the one she was wearing the last time she saw him; she couldn't put it in, no matter how hard she tried, no matter how much she wanted to. Even though she thought she wanted to forget everything, she needed just one little reminder. She taped the box so it would close up and slid it into the furthest corner, underneath the wardrobe she was expected to wear. She took the outfit she left out and placed it in front of the box.

"There you are." She turned to see Stan in the doorway. Karen stood up and walked towards him as he spoke. "Rosario's looking for you. She says Will Truman is on the phone for you. It seems important."

Damn.

It was the second time today he called. He called her every day, hoping he would be able to reach her. As far as Stan knew, Will was only calling to discuss some legal matter that he obviously wasn't aware of. It was the first time she knew of Stan knowing Will called. She just couldn't take it. She figured he was only calling to confirm what Grace said. He felt bad making her do his dirty work, so now he was wanting to tell Karen himself in order to cleanse his soul. No. He had no right to feel better about this. Karen put everything on the line for him, and this was the result. She knew if she talked to him, she would scream, the entire house would hear it, she would let everything slip and destroy the only option she had left.

"Um…could you tell her to say that I'm not here? I don't really want to take any calls right now."

"Sure," he said as he turned to leave.

"Wait, Stanley."

He turned around. She seemed upset about something, but couldn't put his finger on it. He was never very good at figuring that out in the first place, but she didn't seem to mind it, so he thought. She eventually felt better and he reasoned that this instance was most likely no exception. What he didn't realize was that this was a sadness that might not ever be fixed.

Karen buried her face in his chest. This didn't feel right, it never did. But at this point, did it even matter? It wasn't as if she could run off to Will's apartment to forget about this. She tried to remember what she did before she met Will, when something made her deal with the fact that her marriage was less than perfect.

"I'm sorry," was all she could get out.

"About what?"

Was she ready to let everything come out? She had thought about admitting to what she had done, thinking that she no longer had anything to lose. But eventually she realized that if she told Stan about Will, there was a great chance that she wouldn't have anywhere to go. Karen merely shook her head at her husband.

She looked down. It was the sleek black dress with the low neckline she was wearing when she first realized she was hopeless.

She needed to get out, go somewhere, anywhere. She couldn't stay in this house. She couldn't stay uptown. This wasn't her anymore. But until she figured out how to fix what she so completely destroyed, she had to stay here. But that didn't mean she couldn't steal away every now and again.

Karen closed the door to her closet, raced to the box and picked up the outfit in front of it. This was her skin, this was what she was meant for. She let the dress she had on fall to the floor and hastily crawled into the jeans, the shirt. She grabbed the cheap little coat she had long before this Karen Walker façade ever existed, and turned off the light.

She heard the phone ring when she got downstairs, Rosario's calm greeting. "Walker residence." She felt Rosario's eyes on her as she moved towards the front door. But if Rosario had an opinion about Karen's appearance, she wasn't about to say anything. On some level, Karen figured that she guessed what had been going on. Rosario was the eyes and ears of this place, but she also knew when to keep her mouth shut. Karen froze, wanting to hear if it was him.

"I'm sorry, I just told you that she's not here. I can take a message if you want." He must not have wanted to, Karen thought; Rosario hung up short after.

She knew it. She couldn't be here anymore. She took one look at Rosario, who gave her a look that almost seemed like pity. She was always amazed at how Rosario could feel her out like that, could tune in to her thoughts and feelings without hesitation. Karen whispered, "I'll be out for a little while. Don't let Stan worry." As if she ever was considerate of how Stan felt at any other point.

She closed the door behind her, ran to the nearest subway station and got on the first train that was going downtown. She started taking an inventory of all the places she could go, until she realized that every single one she came up with made her think of Will.

She couldn't escape.

She decided to get off at the next stop and start wandering the streets for a place she could call her own. She looked down at her outfit and started to tear up.

It was the worn white t-shirt and the jeans with holes in both knees she was wearing when she realized she had come undone.


	20. Diamond Sharp Days

March 19th 1999

_December 23, 7:23 pm_: "Karen, are you there? Please pick up, I need to talk to you. You can't avoid me forever. I need to set things straight with you. Please talk to me. Karen? Karen?" _Message erased._

_January 4, 1:18 am_: "Please. Let me know you're okay, at least. I haven't heard from you in over a month. Just let me know you're okay. You don't have to say anything else. Just pick up and tell me that you're okay. I want to hear your voice. You don't owe me that, I know. But I just want to hear you." _Message erased._

The answering machine to her private line was filled with these messages. He would leave two or three a week, sometimes more, begging her to call. These were the days when it hurt the most, when the bitter taste of it was the most prominent, when the stinging wouldn't go away. He knew Rosario didn't touch her private phone; he knew he would be able to sneak a message in. Karen hadn't seen him since "that night." She couldn't bear to refer to it any other way; how would she? "The night it ended." "The night he ripped my heart out." More like "The night Grace ripped my heart out."

_January 15, 3:04 pm_: "Karen, talk to me. I messed up. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Please, call me and let me explain." _Message erased._

She picked an evening when she knew Stan would be out; there would be no way of him overhearing this. Karen closed the door to the room on the second floor that was only meant for her—Stan had given this space to her so she could have a bit of privacy when she needed it. She added a separate phone line for the room shortly after she started seeing Will, thinking it was best for him to call her that way. She wondered why he started out trying to reach her by the main phone before resorting to this one. Maybe he thought Rosario wouldn't lie when she picked up, and let him know where she was. He was obviously gullible.

Grace didn't really talk to her about it, about him, about anything anymore. She looked as though she felt guilty. Karen didn't mind it. As much as she took a liking to Grace, despite the small attempts to make her second guess her relationship, Karen definitely put some of the blame on her. Some days, Karen could tell that Grace wanted to apologize, but whether it was fear or the inability to form the right words or feeling no real fault for what happened, something kept her from doing so.

Karen didn't need an apology. She needed a time machine. Take her back to her world of delusion, take her back to her world of make-believe. At the very least, take her back to November.

_February 2, 12:14 am_: "You've got to be there. I'm not going to let you think that this is how I wanted things to go. You know me better than that. Just…five minutes. Can you please just give me five minutes? Not even, I just need time to explain, and you can hang up. At least I'll know you have the truth to help you make your decision. Call me. Please." _Message erased._

_February 17, 9:32 pm_: "I'm not going to stop until I get your voice. Your real voice, not this recording. I want you. I don't want the machine. Karen, if you don't feel love for me anymore, at least take pity in the fact that I'm desperate to talk to you." _Message erased_.

Not stopping. That was the first lie he told her. No, no it wasn't. Saying that he wasn't going to let anyone come between them was the first lie he told her.

She held her face in her hands. She didn't want to think of him like this. That's why, on a diamond-sharp day when he called, she usually ran off to Washington Square Park; she would watch the children play on the playground, look across the way to her childhood home. Will made her defy her mother here; Will made her realize who she was, who she wanted to be. Will made her come alive here.

But when he called, he made her feel hopeless. He made her feel guilty, although she was certain she shouldn't be feeling that way. He made her come undone. She was amazed at how easy it was to do that; she was certain it was a slow process, and she would realize what was happening to her. But Will untied the strings in one fell swoop and she fell apart so quickly.

His messages became shorter and more desperate as time went on.

_February 20, 2:20 am_: "Please give me a chance." _Message erased._

_February 23, 1:54 pm_: "I just need to talk to you." _Message erased._

He was beginning to repeat himself. That's when she knew he was breaking, too. She wanted to run, fly out the door and take the train down to Washington Square, maybe stop by that coffee shop on Tenth Street before making her way to the park. Take comfort in what used to be. But Karen knew eventually she would have to go through these messages, delete them, try to forget that they ever existed together. And if she ever ran into him, she could act like what they had never happened. She could act like she didn't know him at all.

On some level, she already felt like she didn't know him.

_February 26, 2:03 pm_: "Karen." _Message erased._

_March 1, 4:55 am_: "Karen." _Message erased._

_March 5, 3:32 pm_: "Please." _Message erased._

Even though the last messages were usually one word, they were the hardest to get through. She didn't want to think of him being miserable because of this. It made her lose her desire to vilify him. She might have gotten over all of this if she didn't have those constant reminders ringing in her ear every day. She might have found a reason to stay with Stan after all. She might have found a way to move on.

But that obviously was not how it was meant to be.

Karen went through his messages one by one, until she got to the very last one. The last time she would hear his voice. The last time she would have had an opportunity to pick up the phone. The last time she would have had an opportunity to listen.

_March 10, 11:57 pm_: "I'm sorry."

That was the one to hurt her the most. She changed into the shirt and jeans she wore every time she went downtown to live in the past, grabbed her purse and rushed out the door. She had to make a stop before going to Washington Square. She found herself at Riverside Drive, entering the door of the apartment building she once thought would be hers. Up the elevator, across the hall. She took an envelope and a roll of tape from her purse. Karen opened up the envelope one last time to make sure it was in there before closing it and taping it to the door.

She figured that once she gave it back to him, everything would start to fade away.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Will heard a faint scratching at the door. He got up from the couch and walked to the door. When he opened it, he saw the elevator doors in the final second of closing. He figured someone had the wrong apartment, until he saw an envelope taped to the door. He took it off the door and opened it. No note. No writing on the envelope, but he knew who it was from.

And he knew it was over when his apartment key slipped out of the envelope into his palm.


	21. Truth Will Weigh You Down

December 17th 1999

Grace looked at the clock. In five minutes, she would be able to go back home. In five minutes, she would be able to linger in the silence of her own apartment. In five minutes, she would have to keep this bitter regret and guilt of her secret for one more night. The office was quiet, even for a normal day; granted, Karen and Grace weren't on speaking terms for some time, but eventually, it seemed as though Karen put everything behind her, and when she wasn't avoiding this place by having midday shopping sprees on Stan's dime, she was beginning to make small talk with Grace. But nothing has been said for hours now, forcing Grace to deal with it all.

Karen hadn't talked about him for months. No mention of his name, the things they used to do together. No mention of the way Grace interfered, the way she eventually ended it for the both of them. As far as Grace knew, Karen thought that Will employed Grace to break her heart for him. And as far as Grace knew, she was beginning to accept that.

It killed Grace.

In five minutes, Karen would walk out the door like usual, go back to Park Avenue, try to feign some interest in the life she has with Stan. Unless Grace said something to her. She had thought about this all day; she was trying to figure out if she was truly going to do this for Karen's sake, or if she was only looking to relieve herself. Either way, she knew that Karen needed to hear the truth. She knew that Karen would be upset. She knew that Karen would once again blame her for the complications in her relationship with Will, and she knew that Karen had every reason to place the blame on her.

She thought about that saying—"The truth will set you free"—and wondered who decided that this was accurate. This truth weighs her down.

She looked over at Karen preparing for her exit. Grace knew she couldn't go another day with this on her shoulders. Karen was about to get up from her desk when she stopped her. "Karen, wait." She walked over to the desk as Karen sat back down, and knelt to her level. "I need to talk to you about something."

"Grace, I should be getting home." There wasn't any conviction in her voice. There wasn't any desire. Just a feeble attempt to piece together some sort of semblance of a happy family life.

"Please, it will only take a minute."

Karen looked at her for a moment. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"No. Look, I know that things are really awkward now that you and Will aren't together anymore…"

"Please, honey, I don't want to talk about that."

"I need to finish. You need to know that it wasn't his doing."

"What do you mean, 'wasn't his doing?'"

"He never wanted me to come to you and break up with you for him. He never wanted to end it at all. I just took what he said to me that night the wrong way. And I've been feeling so guilty about all of it. I know you probably won't believe that; I don't blame you. I've been pretty awful to you at times. I never really meant any of it, but seeing you with him just triggered something, and for whatever reason, I wasn't able to get over it. Karen, I'm so sorry it took me until now to tell you. I thought maybe Will would set things straight but that obviously didn't happen. He said he called you, but I guess you didn't answer."

Silence.

"Karen, please say something."

"All this time, I was trying to figure out what was wrong with me. I was trying to figure out why he would want to end things so suddenly, why he chose then to break it off, why he had to make you do it for him. And when I think I finally have it figured out, I have a bomb dropped on me. I must have done something so unspeakably horrible to you to make you do something like this."

"No, Karen, you didn't do anything. It was all me."

"I wasn't going to stop him from being your friend. I wasn't going to stop him from seeing you, talking to you, laughing with you. I just wanted a little piece of him. But you couldn't even give me that. If I had known that that's why Will was calling me every day for nearly four months, I would have picked up the damn phone. Things would be different." She stood up. "If you're looking for forgiveness, try Will. I'm not feeling that generous."

She grabbed a bag she kept under her desk and went into the bathroom to change. When she came out, Grace found a transformed Karen, complete with a white shirt and jeans with holes in the knees. Karen put the bag back under her desk, took her purse from the desk and headed out the door, despite Grace calling her name, begging her to stay.

And with that, she was gone.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

When Grace got home, she made her way across the hall and found Will sipping wine in the living room. She walked in slowly, knowing she was about to reopen the wound. She knew he wasn't completely over Karen, but as time went by, he spoke about her less and less, she found him at the phone less and less. She wasn't completely sure if Will had even seen her walk in, and she wasn't completely sure if she wanted to be noticed right now. She made it down the hall before she heard his voice.

"How was work today?"

Grace stopped for a moment, took a deep breath. She walked back out to the living room and sat down next to him, keeping her gaze straight ahead. "I told her. About what I did."

Will immediately knew what she was talking about. "You waited until now to tell her? I thought you did, but she didn't believe you. I thought that's why she wouldn't take any of my calls. It's been over a year, and you wait until now to tell her that this was all your fault. Are you looking for redemption now?"

"No. I just thought you should know," she said meekly. "I think she's downtown, if you want to try to find her. When she left the office, she was in jeans and a t-shirt, took her cheap coat with her. She looked like she did when she was with you. Maybe she's heading towards one of your spots."

"What are you suggesting?"

"Nothing. It's just that she's obviously not over you. And you never stopped thinking about her. I know Manhattan's a big place, but it doesn't hurt to try to find her. Maybe you can start over." She stood up. "I know you probably don't want to be around me right now. I'm going to go grab some takeout. I just don't want you to be miserable the rest of your life; I know you're miserable without her." She walked out the door, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Karen knows the truth now; Karen's perspective on him could have changed. But there was a chance that she still didn't want to see him or hear from him. Maybe he would try to find her tonight.

Maybe he would shatter again.


	22. Last Call

December 17th 1999

She bought food from a cheap vendor in Union Square. She browsed every bookstore in the Village. She wandered the streets until the cold forced her to take refuge in a coffee shop or some small retail store. She wouldn't go home; she couldn't. If she did, Karen would be faced with Stan and the kids, and when once she was beginning to fall back into the routine of being a Walker, when she thought she was beginning to finally get the pieces back together, she now felt as though the strings she so carefully tied came apart once again.

Funny how your world can freeze while everyone else simply moves around you, stepping over the mess.

Karen wondered if she should go to Will's apartment, knock on the door, see if he's there. He probably wouldn't want her. He probably used his months after the last call getting over her, finding someone else, moving on where Karen was stuck. She'd be lucky if he even remembered what she looked like. All these months, she had visited the places they used to love, hoping she would run into him, or at the very least, catch a quick glance. Just to see that he's there. Just to see that he's okay.

As the night grew darker, she made her way to Washington Square. If there was anyone in the park, she wasn't able to see them. Karen looked across the street at the window of her old apartment; there was a light on. She wanted to know who inhabited it. She wondered if they were like her and her mother when they lived there. And if they were, she wanted to know if the little girl would run the first chance she got. She turned away and walked into the park, found a bench.

Her cell phone broke her concentration. Damn it. Karen forgot that she left it in her purse; she was sure she put it in the bag she left at the office. She didn't have to answer it to know who was on the other end; it was late, and Stan would be wondering where she was, why she didn't come home yet. She closed her eyes and waited for it to stop ringing. She didn't think she could handle answering the phone; coming up with an explanation as to why she didn't want to be with him tonight seemed like an impossible task, and she didn't want to waste her time digging herself into a deeper hole than she already had. Once silence had surrounded her—as much silence as she could get in downtown Manhattan—she started to relax on the park bench.

Hours had passed; Stan and the kids were surely in bed. Her cheeks were frozen red, but she was unable to feel the cold, and she wondered when she lost the ability to feel that. She wondered when she would feel the need to go back home. She wondered if there were any hotels around that had a vacant room to spend the night in. She wondered if she should just curl up on this park bench for the night.

She wondered if anyone would miss her if she decided never to go back.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

December 18th 1999

He watched the minutes flash by on his nightstand, the digital clock screaming red numbers at him in a constant reminder. _It's 12:35 am, and you still haven't done anything_. _It's 1:24 am, and I bet you're wondering where she is_._ It's 2:07 am, and she could be at home sleeping soundly with the one she married. It's 2:45 am, and—_

The phone rang. Will didn't know whether to take it as a reward, a break from his thoughts, or a complete disturbance to the punishment he so greatly deserved. Either way, he grabbed for the cordless and pushed "Talk."

"Hello?"

"Mr. Will?" The voice on the other end spoke quietly.

"Rosario? What are you doing? It's nearly three in the morning."

"I know, and I'm deeply sorry for calling so late. I just wanted to ask if you've heard from Miss Karen. I tried calling her phone earlier, but she didn't answer. She hasn't come home, and Mr. Stan was starting to get worried." Starting to. Right. Stan was lucky if he saw Karen at all during the day anymore. The truth was, Rosario was the one who was worried. She knew Karen wasn't the same after Will, but it wasn't like her to not come home. And, if she was being completely honest, Rosario wanted Will to know that there was still a chance. She knew that the Walker marriage was less than perfect and, even if they didn't want to admit it, had ended long ago. And as much as she and Karen take jabs at each other, Rosario does care for her.

"Wait, she's still out?"

"I don't know where she is."

Will looked at the clock. _It's 2:51 am, and it looks like you still have a chance_. "Thanks for calling me, Rosario. I'll let you know if I hear anything from her, okay? Don't worry, I'm sure she's fine." He hung up and bolted out of bed. After a hasty change of clothes, he grabbed his keys and headed out the door.

_It's 2:56 am, and you're finally listening_.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through taxis speeding down Washington Square North. Through the laughter and footsteps of drunken New Yorkers making their way home. Through the shouts of choice four-letter words from the ones who live on this patch of grass. She sat through all of it, waiting for something different to happen to her. Waiting for something that would most likely never happen. Determined to stay in this park until it happened.

Eventually she realized this was another crushed hope.

Karen stood up, looked at her watch. She wondered if any hotel would even take her in this late. She had been out so long. At the very least, she had the key to Grace's office. She could take refuge there until morning if she was desperate; it was a Saturday and Grace would have off, so there would be no chance of her walking in and finding Karen sleeping there. Maybe she should just do that; even if Grace found her there, she had the upper hand. Grace would still be feeling bad about everything. Grace would have to understand.

She began to make her way towards the office when a voice stopped her.

"There you are. I was worried about you. Rosario called, she said you never came home. I wanted to come look for you."

Oh god.

"Karen? Are you okay?"

No.

She turned around to face him. "Will, what are you doing here?"

"I know Grace told you." Will moved in closer. He could smell the perfume she usually wore when she was with him. It was a different scent than when they first met, the fragrance she could masquerade in. He reached for her hand and was surprised when she let him take it.

"I need to talk to you."


	23. Change My Night

December 1999

"What do you want from me?" God, that was too harsh. But to tell the truth, you surprised me. I was so completely absorbed in my thoughts of you—placing blame on you, on Grace, on myself, trying to pinpoint the exact moment when things started to crack—and when I heard your voice, I was almost certain it was my own mind tricking me. But there you were. This was real.

"I want you to change my night. Don't you want to sit down first?" Not exactly what I expected you to say, but at this point, I'll take anything you give me. Small talk is good. It will give me time to get my bearings, to prepare myself. But then again, have I ever been prepared for anything that happened during our time together?

"I'm fine."

Silence.

"I didn't know Grace was going to come out here that night. I didn't know what she was going to do. If I did, I would have stopped her. I know that we've faced some big obstacles together, but we always got through them. And if I didn't think you were worth it, I wouldn't have tried at all. She was trying to put it in my head that because you were married, you could leave me at any time. And I have to admit, I worried that I didn't have the hold on you I thought I did. But I would rather love you for as long as I can than end it early and spend the rest of my life wondering what would have happened."

"You could have stopped by the office; you could have made an effort to see me, Will." I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm trying to defend myself like this. I shouldn't have to defend myself at all; I know what you're doing.

"I know. Believe me, Karen, I've been kicking myself because I didn't do that. But you weren't answering my calls and I thought that you wouldn't give me a chance to talk to you."

"You're probably right." Well, you are.

"What about now?"

"I'm listening." I give you a small smile. "I'm sorry I never picked up the phone. If I had, we'd probably be wrapped in each other instead of awkwardly trying to reconnect." You laugh; god, I missed that so much. To hear that sound now brings back everything I haven't already dug up, and all I want to do right now is get us back to that. I want to make it seem like nothing happened. But I know it's not that easy. "I miss you."

It was faint, barely audible, but I know you just heard that.

Slowly but surely, my voice begins to build up confidence. "I would have come to the apartment, instead of freezing my ass off out here, but I didn't have the key. And I didn't know if you would have wanted me there in the first place."

"I would have let you in."

I take a deep breath. "The truth is, I've been miserable all this time. And when Grace told me what she did…well, I was pissed, but then I thought that maybe there was still a chance. But it's been so long since you stopped calling, and I just figured you gave up and started to forget about me."

You bring me closer to your warmth for the first time in over a year. I didn't realize how much I actually missed. But to feel your hands gracing my waist, the comfort of your skin, makes me understand how badly I longed for it all. It was slight, but I could swear I just felt your lips brush against my cheek, and I hope that I didn't just imagine that.

"Karen, I couldn't get through my days without thinking about you. I told you early on how hard I fell for you. I knew I couldn't recover from that; I didn't want to. This time without you only proved to me how far I actually fell."

It's taking all that I have right now not to take you in, not to press my lips against yours. I lost your taste so long ago; I've been craving it ever since the last time I saw you. But I don't know how you would react if I just went for it. I don't know if you're looking for me to ease my way back into your life, or if we should merely pick up where we left off.

Luckily, I don't have to make that decision.

You kiss me, and the reconnection, after all this time, is something so full of sheer bliss. It kills me that we lost a year with each other. It kills me that I didn't pick up the phone, that I didn't just walk over to your apartment and talk to you after that horrible night in Washington Square. It kills me that I made you give up in March. But at least we have now. We can make up for everything we so foolishly gave up. We can start over. After all of my wishing, and all of my regret, we can finally start over again.

How many people can say they have that opportunity?

"I love you." Before I could stop myself, it slipped out. You're not like Stan; I've always known this. You notice what makes me laugh and what makes me cringe. You're eager to learn what I like and don't like. You can tell when I'm feeling a certain way, and you cater to that emotion without skipping a beat. When I tell you that I love you, you say it back, like you did just now. When I smile, you return it with that grin that I've come to know and love.

"What do you want to do now?" you ask me.

"I want to go home," I tell you with a smile.

Suddenly your eyes go dark. You're still smiling, but I can tell it's not genuine anymore. I couldn't have disappointed you so soon. Please tell me I didn't disappoint you so soon. "You were always saying how you didn't want to go back to him. You used to tell me that you felt more at home with me in my apartment. I thought that that's why you were out so late tonight. I thought you couldn't take it anymore."

I laugh and hope you don't take it the wrong way. "Okay," I begin, "let me rephrase." I dig into my pocket and pull out the crinkled ball of paper that's been living there for over a year. The letter I had written for Stan, that I was hoping to use the night Grace told me it was over. I took it apart, hoping to salvage as much as the letter as I could. It was creased, but you could still read what I had written, and right now, that's all that matters. "I meant it when I took you up on your offer, about the living situation. I'll figure out how to talk to the kids about it. I'll figure out how to handle him. I'll figure out if I should give this letter to him, or if I can actually say all of that to his face. But right now, I was thinking that instead of going to Stan's, I could spend the night at home. With you."

There. That light in your eyes. It's back in full force. I look back to the apartment I used to live in when I was a child. My mother told me that Washington Square Park was the most dangerous of places. But Washington Square Park is a place of love, a place of beauty, a place where second chances are given. A place where I feel like I am truly alive. You can see that. You have made me open my eyes to that. I was so scared that I lost you, Will. You saved me from myself tonight. I was throwing blame around like a child and you saved me from myself.

You start to move towards the subway, towards uptown Manhattan, towards home. You hold your hand out for me. "What are we waiting for?" you ask with a smile. I grab your hand and let you lead me home. Take me where you will.

I'm with you now. Nothing else matters.


End file.
